


Sixth Time Lucky

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, and basically background gavin/everyone but it's gen, awkward crushes, background Michael/Ray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:48:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Gavin had to pretend to love someone in the crew and one time he didn't have to pretend.</p>
<p>(In which Gavin has a crush on the newest member of the Fake AH Crew, yet somehow manages to find himself faking relationships with every single other person instead.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**1\. Geoff**

“This was a terrible idea,” Gavin says.

“This was a genius idea and you know it,” Geoff shoots back, cheerfully, and downs another glass as Gavin side-eyes him. He seems to be having the time of his life and this is mostly due to three little words: _free open bar._  

Gavin can’t help but roll his eyes, fingers drumming agitatedly against his folded arms. 

“How many whiskeys have you had tonight?” he asks, and Geoff shrugs. 

“I mean, three since we got here,” he replies. “But that’s hardly any for me!” 

Gavin swats him in the side and laughs at the high-pitched, indignant noise the other man makes. He leans in close, mindful of the people milling around them, and murmurs, “Just make sure you can still hold a knife.”

Geoff nods, his grin turning sharper, harder for a moment as his eyes track across the room, Gavin following his gaze.

Mr. Grant Armitage’s big, fancy dinner is full of big, fancy people. Big, fancy, _corrupt_ people who the supposed ‘philanthropist’ wants to all donate money to his “cause” (aka knocking down basically every building west side of the city and rebuilding it with his name on it while charging ridiculous rent). There are so many things going into this - shady tenant agreements, health and safety violations, too many environmental issues to count - but all the FAHC cares about is that Armitage wants in with the gangs in Achievement City. Wants them to get on his side along with the senators, politicians, judges and rich businessmen who are all engaging in a little exchanging of funds with him. Getting in each other’s pockets so they can all turn a blind eye when need be, owe each other a fuckton of favours and build their own empires higher on the backs of the little people. 

Ramsey’s the biggest name in AC. Of course Armitage asked him along. 

Of course Geoff wants to kill him. He’s an asshole who’s encroaching on Geoff’s city with his grand plans that mostly involve offing anyone who crosses him - and because this dinner is a private event and no one’s meant to be bringing any security or muscle with them, of _course_ Geoff’s come up with the spectacular idea that Gavin should come along as his plus one by posing as his _husband_. 

And to be fair, Gavin was pretty enthusiastic about this idea at first. Then again, he’s excited for _any_ job, big or small, because finally, _finally_ he’s over here in America permanently.

He’s worked here in Achievement City before, for little stretches - weeks or months at a time, never much longer than a year - heading back to England in between where he worked for them in their UK affairs for a long time. But only a few weeks ago the arrangements were finally made for him to come over here permanently, and he’s been buzzing with the excitement of it since he arrived. With seeing the others in person every day, and the thrill of working in a much larger team on much larger jobs than he ever has before.  

It’s also what made him the prime pick for this job. No one knows his face yet, not like Ryan who’d gotten compromised a few months back when he had to take his mask off and an unfortunate bit of rain washed parts of his face paint away. Or Michael, who everyone knows as the explosive terror of Achievement City - or Jack, whose beard makes him instantly recognisable. Ray avoids public events like the plague, so he was never an option. 

But Gavin’s clean. He’s pretty much been out of the country the last few years, which means that now he works out as the best choice for Geoff’s class A idea of them posting as husbands so Armitage doesn’t suspect they’re here to, y’know, tag-team him and stab him in the kidneys. 

It was funny at first. But now that they’re actually here, Gavin’s starting to get a bit of the nervous jitters. Despite the ridiculous situation, it is a big job, and he wants to prove himself now that he’s over here with the rest of them. Not fuck things up by blowing their cover. 

He also doesn’t do the whole murder thing much. Back in England, Dan mostly did that for him. Gavin’s more the hang back, look suave and do all the talking type.  

Geoff glances over at him and gives a gentle smile as he seems to pick up on Gavin’s nerves. He turns to the drinks at the end of the bar and grabs three glasses of champagne, pressing one into Gavin’s hand.

“Relax, kid,” he says, and Gavin pulls a face as he takes a sip.

“Don’t call me kid,” he complains. “I’m your _husband_ , it’s weird.”

“Good point,” Geoff laughs. He hands Gavin another glass and leans in, lips close to his ear, using the cover of their bodies to surreptitiously pull a little packet from his jacket and empty it into the glass. “Be natural. I thought you’re meant to be a good actor.” 

Gavin huffs out a laugh, relaxing a little; Geoff just seems so calm, so unruffled by their plans. Gavin’s never nervous on heists or weapons deals or meetings, and with Geoff here bantering away it feels a bit less like some delicate undercover operation and more like the two of them having fun on a job the way they always do.

“You’re thinking of Michael,” he replies, and Geoff snorts.

“Bet you’d be less awkward if it was _him_ you were pretending to be married to,” he says. He leans back and then takes hold of Gavin’s wrist, shaking his hand a little so that the powder in the glass he’s holding dissolves away into the liquid, invisible. “You and your boi.”

“I don’t think Ray would like that much,” Gavin says absently, only for Geoff’s eyes to dart up to his, intent and alert.

“What about Ray?” he demands - Gavin stares back, confused, because he may have only been here a couple of weeks but even he’s picked up on the fact that since the last time he came to America the tension between the Fake AH Crew’s resident sniper and their explosives expert has skyrocketed. Gavin spent three days trying to work out if they were actually together yet before realising that they weren’t and were stuck in a cycle of mutual pining. You’d have to be deaf and blind not to have noticed it by now. 

Geoff’s still waiting for him to answer, but before he can, the other man looks away suddenly, his attention drawn by something on the other end of the large function room. Gavin follows his gaze in time to see Armitage turning away from the cluster of people he was previously engaged with. 

“Time to go talk to him,” Geoff says, and picks up his own glass of champagne before slipping his free arm around Gavin’s waist. He tugs him in against his side, hand settling over his hip, thumb rubbing gentle circles through the fabric of his suit jacket. “I mean it, relax. God, you’d think you’d never stabbed a guy before.”

“I haven’t,” Gavin replies, leaning against him, feeling himself relax a little under the other man’s soothing touch. Maybe it should be weird, making him even more nervous, but this is _Geoff_. Geoff, one of his closest friends, the man he trusts with his life, who he lived with every other time he came over here - they wrestle and cuddle all the time anyway. A bit of touching is no big deal.

“Right,” Geoff drawls, “Because Dan does all your dirty work, you lazy fuck.”

“I’m a people person, Geoff,” Gavin protests. “I do the talking, not the heavy lifting. I’m a _charmer_.”

“Yeah, well, get ready to charm,” Geoff replies, and looks up, catching Armitage’s eyes across the room. He gives his biggest, friendliest grin, the one that fools people into thinking Achievement City’s biggest crime lord isn’t actually all that scary. 

“Armitage,” Geoff calls out. He keeps his arm around Gavin as they approach and Gavin himself looks up and smiles.

The second they’re near their target he falls back into the routine of it, of playing dumb, of making himself look as innocent and friendly as possible. Grant Armitage stares back at him with sharp, probing ice-blue eyes and a close-lipped smile that has Gavin pressing closer into Geoff’s side, concerned by how observant their enemy seems. Wanting to really sell this. 

“Have a drink with us,” Geoff continues, and Gavin offers Armitage the drugged champagne. He takes the glass cordially, but doesn’t sip it yet. 

“Ramsey,” he replies, nodding. “I’m glad you could make it. I don’t believe I’ve met your plus one.”

“This is Gavin,” Geoff says. “My husband.”

Armitage’s eyebrows rise, and when Gavin offers a hand he holds onto it for a long moment before shaking it slowly. 

“I wasn’t aware you were married,” he says. 

“Well, you don’t exactly advertise your loved ones in this business,” Geoff points out, looking over at Gavin with his fondest smile. Gavin smiles back - it’s not hard, he does love Geoff, just as family. 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Armitage says. “What do you do, Gavin? Are you part of Geoff’s crew?”

Gavin shakes his head - they went over their cover story earlier, and Geoff will seem much less threatening without any of his crew by his side.

“No, I stay out of that side of things,” he replies. “I’m a photographer. I worked in England for a long time before coming over here.” 

Armitage’s eyebrows rise.

“He’s a civilian,” he says, seeming surprised - Geoff hugs Gavin even close to him, hand shifting higher on his waist.

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” he says, and Gavin laughs lightly. 

Armitage is still watching them speculatively, and he hasn’t drunk from the glass. 

“I see,” he says finally, and turns back to Gavin. “So tell me, Gavin - if you’re not in this business, then what exactly is it you see in Achievement City’s biggest mob boss? That’s a dangerous man to get involved with.” 

“I like dangerous,” Gavin replies with a grin - Geoff snorts out a laugh that’s not even faked - Gavin turns in his grasp, looking up into Geoff’s eyes. He’s gotta lay it on thick here, he thinks, and places a hand on Geoff’s chest. 

“He’s powerful,” he says, voice low. “Driven. He knows how to get what he wants. But he’s very gentle with me.”

The corner of Geoff’s mouth is twitching furiously, but he keeps the act up, dragging his hand down Gavin’s side to settle on his hip again. Gavin stares into his eyes a moment longer before turning back to Armitage with a smile. The man is still watching them closely, but there's an amused tug to his lips now at the sight of what he probably things is an unexpectedly personal side of Ramsey’s life.

“We married very recently,” Gavin adds. “Quiet thing. Kept it all very hush-hush.”

“Recently?” Armitage asks. “So you’re still in the honeymoon period then.” 

“Sure,” Geoff replies, and huffs. “As much as you can get of one when you’re as busy as I am.”

“In that case, we should drink to your marriage,” Armitage says, and Gavin lets out an internal cheer - the guy sure doesn’t trust easily, and he’s gotta be watching Geoff in particular, knowing he’s the most dangerous person in the room - but he seems convinced now, and they raise their glasses, clinking them together gently before downing them. Gavin watches the drugged champagne slowly disappear down their target’s throat and feels that particular swell of satisfaction that comes with a successful lie, pulling off some trick or charm, getting away with none the wiser. 

“Cheers,” Geoff replies brightly, and gulps down his own champagne. “Well, we won’t keep you - you have plenty of guests to speak to. I’ll see you after you give your speech.”

Armitage nods. He looks pleased as he turns away, and Geoff grabs Gavin’s hand and leads him out. They barely get out onto the verandah before Geoff starts laughing, his particular hysterical, shrieking laugh that always makes Gavin want to crack up too.

“Stop, stop,” Gavin hisses, between his own giggles. “You’ll give us away after all that hard work!”

“Oh my God,” Geoff says, and manages to get himself under control. He reaches up and mockingly caresses Gavin’s cheek. “I could almost think you actually _were_ in love with me the way you laid it on back there. _He’s gentle with me_ ,” he adds, in a rather insultingly high-pitched attempt at Gavin’s accent.

Gavin rolls his eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, but can’t help his chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. “At least he drank the champagne.”

Geoff nods, eyes lighting up. “That laxative will have him running in minutes.” 

He reaches out and jostles Gavin’s arm and they grin at each other in some shared delight at how well their plan is going. Maybe some people would feel awkward about having just pretended to be in love with one of their friends; not the two of them, and Gavin feels suddenly very fond of Geoff. It’s part of what he loves so much about working with him, with this whole crew; Geoff just doesn’t give two shits as long as the job gets done. 

Sure enough, not ten minutes after they head back inside, they notice Armitage starting to look very strained, a pained look taking over his face, one hand pressed to his stomach as he slowly lowers his champagne glass before quickly excusing himself, heading upstairs to the bathroom. 

“Hook, line…” Geoff murmurs; they’ve timed it well, the MC is trying to organise people to start moving over to the stage at one end of the room for a presentation on Armitage’s project, and in the distraction it’s easy for them to slip upstairs unnoticed.

“He has two bodyguards,” Geoff whispers, as they head down the corridor towards the large private bathrooms; they’re fancy, doors leading off the hallway into individual rooms rather than a communal room with cubicles. Sure enough, Armitage’s two guards are standing outside one of them; they’re facing away from Geoff and Gavin, talking quietly between themselves. 

Geoff and Gavin glance at each other before Geoff presses a finger to his lips before silently gesturing between the guards - _you take one, I’ll take the other_ \- Gavin nods, and they creep forward. 

Gavin doesn’t do a lot of hand-to-hand combat, but with the element of surprise on his side it’s not hard to get an arm around the throat of the smaller of the two guards, dragging him back before slamming his head against the wall. It dazes him enough that he can squeeze his elbow tighter around the man’s windpipe, choking him out until he slips soundlessly to the floor. He turns in time to see Geoff smash the other man’s head against the wall; he slumps down, unconscious.

Geoff turns to him, panting, and shoots him a grin and a lazy thumbs up before reaching into his jacket. Everyone was scanned for weapons when they got here, so it was impossible to bring in a gun or anything metal - but Geoff pulls out a knife made of bone, now, cut razor-sharp, that he slipped past the sensors. 

“Killing a guy on the bog,” Gavin observes. “Very _Game of Thrones_.”

“Hey, I’ll wait ‘til he’s done,” Geoff replies. “I’m not so cruel as to kill a man with his pants down.”

“Because that’s where we draw the line,” Gavin snorts, but waits, lingering by the side, until they hear the toilet flush and Geoff shifts back against the wall. 

It all happens in a matter of seconds; as soon as Armitage emerges from the room Geoff’s darting up and grabbing him from behind before he can even see his fallen guards. One hand clamps over the man’s mouth, stopping him screaming, the other drives the knife up between his ribs as he drags him back into the bathroom before blood can get on the carpet. 

Gavin looks away, feeling a little sick despite himself. He’s not phased by violence, not given what they do for a living, but he has a notoriously weak stomach. He focuses on grabbing the unconscious guards and dragging them into the bathroom as well; it’s a huge room, expansive, with a full-length mirror and room to move about. By the time he’s finished, Geoff is washing his hands at the sink.

“All according to plan,” he says. “We should be in the clear, touch wood.”

“No wood in here,” Gavin mutters, looking around. “Everything’s made of gold and marble- oh come _on_ , Geoff, seriously?”

He’s propped Armitage’s body up on the toilet, and when he starts tittering like a little schoolboy Gavin can’t help but laugh as well, rolling his eyes, though he quickly collects himself and tugs at Geoff’s sleeve.

“Come on, they’ll miss him soon, we need to get out of here.”

Geoff nods, and they hurry out. The plan was to leave as soon as they’d killed Armitage, and Geoff leads the way along their planned route; down the back stairs and through a window leading out behind the large function centre this is all taking place in.  

“Who’s picking us up?” Gavin asks, as Geoff helps him out the window, steadying him when he slides down from the sill and into a garden bed. “Jack?”

“No, the new guy,” Geoff replies, already jogging towards the road. 

“New guy?” Gavin demands, confused. 

“He joined while you were away in England this last stretch. One of B-Team, I guess you didn’t get around to meeting him yet.” Geoff’s peering along the road; they don’t have comms on them, couldn’t get them past security, but sure enough, there’s a car waiting exactly where it's supposed to be. Geoff whoops when he notices it, and grabs Gavin’s wrist, dragging him along as he starts to run. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here before they start wondering if Armitage is constipated!”

“You’re terrible,” Gavin shoots back, but jogs along with him. They’re breathless and giggling by the time they reach the car. 

“Shotgun,” Gavin says immediately, twisting out of Geoff’s grasp and throwing himself into the front seat before the other man can protest. He’s so distracted by getting inside and slamming the door shut before Geoff can drag him out that he barely pays attention to the driver. 

“Not fair!” Geoff roars, as he sulkily climbs in the back. “I’m your boss! I should get shotgun!”

“Tonight you’re just my husband,” Gavin snickers back, and twists to stick his tongue out at Geoff. Geoff’s apparent response is to lean forward between the front seats and grab Gavin, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek as he squirms to try and get away, even as the car takes off.

“Um, okay,” a voice next to them says, and Gavin freezes - Geoff takes the opportunity to _lick_ him, the asshole - but as he flops back into the backseat Gavin turns and gets a look at the man sitting next to him, in the driver’s seat. 

He can’t see much of the guy’s face; he’s wearing big aviators, but the first thing Gavin notices is _muscles_ \- the size of those arms, seriously - he’s grinning, what little Gavin can see of him under the sunglasses, but Gavin’s immediately nervous the way he always gets nervous around new people.

“Gav, that’s Jeremy,” Geoff announces. “Jeremy, I doubt I need to tell you that this is Gavin Free.”

“‘course not,” Jeremy says, and looks over at him and nods. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot."

“Right,” Gavin replies, but can’t think of anything to say after that, and rather awkwardly busies himself fumbling with his seatbelt. With the sunglasses on he can’t tell if Jeremy’s sneaking looks at him and he suddenly feels a bit intimidated, especially when Geoff starts talking about some job the other man’s been on, asking how it’s going, and Gavin ends up third-wheeled out of the conversation. 

He’s messing with his phone, trying to look occupied, when he realises that silence has fallen in the car - and worse, they’re stopped at a light. Jeremy’s looking over at him and Gavin nearly drops his phone trying to put it away. 

“Job go okay tonight?” Jeremy asks.

“Gavin was the best fake husband anyone could ask for,” Geoff replies merrily. 

“Come off it,” Gavin says, but Jeremy’s tilting his head now. Curse those glasses, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. 

“I heard you’re good at that,” he comments. “Talking your way out of stuff.”

“It’s what I do,” Gavin replies, and kicks himself again; he’s never normally so tongue-tied but the sudden presence of someone new has thrown him off, badly. 

“Cool,” Jeremy says, and then bites his lip, looking a bit uncertain himself. “It’s nice you’re over here now. Seems like we need someone like you on the crew. I don’t know, I…. heard a lot about your jobs in England, you’ve done some cool shit.” This followed by a very awkward sort of laugh. 

It takes Gavin a second, but he realises abruptly that Jeremy’s nervous too - but after a moment, they get moving again, and only moments later they’re pulling up in front of their main base. Geoff jumps out immediately when Jeremy halts the car in front of the building, but Gavin isn’t quite fast enough and Jeremy seems to think he’s staying in the car, because he starts driving around towards the car park. There’s a slightly strained silence. 

“So,” Gavin says, eloquently. “You’re new?” 

Jeremy nods, a bit too enthusiastically. 

“Yep! Geoff picked up Matt and I - that’s my friend - we’d been doing other stuff in the area for a long time, and Geoff came to us for a couple things - I’m good with vehicles, repairs and modifications and shit, and Matt makes some wicked bombs - after he’d used our stuff a couple times he asked us if we wanted to join the crew, start working for him exclusively. It’s still kind of unreal seeing all you guys in person,” he adds. “Geoff’s such a big name here and I’ve heard about all the jobs you guys have done. The heists, the disguises - they all looked like so much fun.” 

He’s grinning widely now but he glances at Gavin then and seems a bit embarrassed, suddenly, only confirming Gavin’s suspicions that he’s just as shy about meeting someone new. It makes it a lot easier for Gavin to relax.

“I get the same,” he says with a smile. “I know that I’ve worked with the others before but it’s really different being here full-time now, getting to see them every day.” 

For a moment they sit, grinning at each other. Gavin’s still nervous, still has very little idea who exactly this new guy is - but they’re _both_ nervous of each other, which seems silly for two criminals on the same side, but here they are. 

They pull into a parking space and when they get out of the car Gavin does a double take.

“Wow, you’re short,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. It wasn’t that noticeable when Jeremy was sitting down. 

The other man just shakes his head slowly. He must get that a lot, Gavin thinks, a bit embarrassed now.

“Why is that the first thing people say when they meet me?” he sighs, sounding very tired. Gavin hesitates, thinking he’s offended him - but the next moment, Jeremy’s pushing his glasses up to the top of his head and his eyes are scanning up and down Gavin. “I might be short but I could probably bench press you, blondie.”

“You are very muscley,” Gavin agrees, and then reaches out and pokes Jeremy’s arm without really thinking about it. The other man barks out a startled laugh and Gavin grins, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks suddenly feel. Jeremy locks the car and they start heading for the base, side by side.

“So tell me something else about you,” Gavin says then. “Something interesting.” 

“I used to be a gymnast,” Jeremy supplies, and Gavin’s eyebrows rise; Jeremy looks strong, sure, but that little fact has him immediately wondering just how agile he might be. 

“So you could do a backflip like right now?” he asks, and Jeremy laughs again, his lovely laugh that’s suddenly starting to make Gavin smile whenever he hears it.

“No,” he protests, “It was ages ago. When I was younger.”

“Oh, weak. I’m very disappointed now. I thought you would be like a secret ninja who can jump off all the walls and shit,” Gavin says, and Jeremy laughs, harder now.

“Do you… do you know what a gymnast is? It’s very different to a ninja.”

“In my imagination it’s a lot more exciting. I’m picturing you like, flipping around breaking people’s necks between your legs.” 

“Right,” Jeremy says, shaking his head almost fondly. They’ve reached the front of the base by now and Gavin gestures at the doors.

“I need to go debrief with Geoff, are you coming in?” 

Jeremy shakes his head.

“I was just on pickup duty. I’m headed home now.” He gestures across the parking lot and Gavin follows his gaze.

“Is that your bike?” he demands, and Jeremy nods. Gavin gives him a thumbs up.

“Is that a Ducati? Nice!” 

“1199 Panigale,” Jeremy says proudly. “You can’t modify bikes as much as cars but I’ve done some wicked things with the engine.” His voice is alight, so animated that Gavin can’t help but smile at it. “You should bring yours into the garage some time and I’ll see what I can do with it.”

“I’d like that,” Gavin says. And then, after a slightly awkward pause, “Goodnight, then.” 

Jeremy nods, seeming almost flustered. 

“Goodnight, Gavin. It was nice meeting you.” 

Gavin heads up the stairs, but turns at the door and watches Jeremy jog off across the parking lot, swing onto his bike and drive away. He’s not wearing a helmet, or leathers, and Gavin raises his eyebrows before heading back inside. 

Geoff and Jack are already in the boardroom, and they turn to him as he enters, their conversation pausing.

“Alright?” Geoff asks, and Gavin stirs.

“Yeah? Why?”

“Dunno,” Geoff replies, “You look kinda dazed.”

Gavin blinks a few times, shaking himself, realising he was a bit distracted, thoughts drifting.

“Just tired,” he says, and smiles when Geoff slings an arm around him, jostling him against his side for a minute. There’s no pressure to pretend, now, just Geoff being Geoff, and Gavin hugs him back briefly. Geoff tugs him towards the table and Gavin follows easily; Geoff’s strong, and as he pulls Gavin over he suddenly thinks of funny, solid little Jeremy. Ex-gymnast Jeremy who works on bikes now and is so excited to be with them. And here Gavin thought pretending to be married to one of his friends would be the most memorable thing that happened to him that night - he’s not quite sure why he’s so preoccupied by this. But he shoves it away, focuses on what Jack and Geoff are saying - there’ll be plenty of time to get to know the new members of the crew later.

  

* * *

 

  

**2\. Ryan**

Gavin likes going out on jobs with Ryan. He is jolly good fun, and if Gavin was a bit intimidated by him at first, that dissipated quickly after the first few times Ryan’s tongue tripped over his own words and he saw the most fearsome man in the city go red with embarrassment over mispronouncing ‘anemone’ (the fact that the word anemone even came up in conversation is just another point in his favour).

It’s fun when Ryan’s in Vagabond-mode, when he’s striding around in all his masked and painted and leather-jacketed glory, shooting flares at people or deliberately targeting their enemies on motorcycles just for Gavin’s entertainment. 

But it’s also just as fun on jobs like this one - when they’re tailing someone, undercover, dressed in civvie clothes and trying to blend into the crowds as they watch a drug dealer they’re keeping tabs on wander about the city, waiting to see if he meets anyone. 

Ryan looks sort of horrifyingly normal when he’s not in his Vagabond getup. It’s intriguing. It’s also kinda endearing going out with him like this, when he’s wearing a baseball cap and drinking Diet Coke through a straw and their attempts to look casual involve having conversations about astrophysics (Gavin knows exactly zero about the actual maths of the universe, but he does have a lot of space facts at his disposal; Ryan on the other hand likes to _act_ like he knows everything but Gavin is positive he’s just making shit up and it’s the fact that he’s saying it _confidently_ that makes him sound smart). 

Then again, it’s hard to take someone seriously when they’re wearing _fucking double denim_. He keeps cracking up every time he looks at him.

“Oh my God, okay, I’m sorry, but we need to talk about your undercover fashion choices,” he says, cutting into Ryan’s attempt at explaining exactly how black holes work. 

“What’s wrong with my fashion choices?” Ryan demands, his voice cracking a little in indignation. Dear God. Gavin can’t believe he used to find this guy scary. 

“You stick out like a sore thumb!” 

“On the contrary,” Ryan says, somehow only _just_ managing to not mess up ‘contrary’, “No one would ever believe that the Vagabond would wear this. I am practically _invisible_.” 

“But you’re not, though, because everyone’s gonna turn and look at the guy who’s wearing denim on denim.” 

“But they’re different _shades_ of blue,” Ryan protests, “It’s fine if they’re different _shades_.” 

“It’s really not,” Gavin snorts, and then yelps when Ryan reaches out and tugs his beanie down over his eyes. “Oi!” 

“You wear sunglasses at night, you’re not one to talk,” Ryan says, and then pauses, looking around for their mark surreptitiously - “Shit, he’s getting up, come on.” 

They were sitting at a table in an outdoor cafe, watching the man from a little distance away. Now they rise, throwing their empty drinks away before strolling down the street after him. For a while, it goes well; they don’t look directly at him and the streets in this part of the city are busy enough that he doesn’t notice he’s being followed - but a moment later, the guy turns down into a much quieter lane, leading out towards some of the dingier looking residential areas, and suddenly they’re the only other people around. 

“Shit,” Ryan hisses under his breath - their mark is looking around now, and Gavin comes to a halt next to a wall and pretends to tie his shoelace, which lets them drop a few metres behind. Ryan hovers over him, lingering too, but the guy has paused some distance from them and is watching them now, eyes narrowed, and even without looking directly at him Gavin can tell he’s suspicious.  

“Ryan, he’s seen us,” he whispers. 

“I know,” Ryan replies, not turning around. 

“What do we do?” This is the longest shoelace tying session of his bloody life right here. He’s got a fucking triple knot going on and is shooting for quadruple. If he never takes this shoe off again it’ll be because he’s fucking _stuck in it_. 

“He’s not going away,” Ryan murmurs, and then, “Shit, okay, we need to look like we have a reason to be in here.” 

“Well, we’re hardly here for the view,” Gavin shoots back, glancing around at the shitty looking apartment buildings with their unfriendly dark windows and overgrown yards. 

Ryan hesitates. And then says, “Stand up.” 

“Me tying my shoelace is the only bloody cover we have going for us right now-” 

“Stand up. I have an idea.” Ryan looks oddly nervous, and Gavin’s eyes narrow as he slowly straightens up. The longer they stand here awkwardly, the more likely the guy is to look closely and recognise him - but Ryan steps in close, suddenly, crowding him against the wall. 

“Ryan?” Gavin asks, hesitantly. 

“I think we should make out,” Ryan says - it comes out quick, nervous - “Only if you’re okay with it?” 

Gavin barely takes in what he’s saying before he sees, over Ryan’s shoulder, the dealer start to step towards them. In the heat of the moment, _any_ idea sounds really fucking good, and he nods furiously. 

“Yes, okay, do whatever the hell you have to to stop him noticing us-” 

He breaks off as suddenly Ryan’s lips are on his - stiffening for a moment, surprised despite himself - Ryan’s movements are hesitant, tentative, but after a moment Gavin comes back to himself and has the presence of mind to reach up and grip the front of Ryan’s shirt, kissing back. 

That’s apparently the only encouragement Ryan needs. Suddenly he’s pressing Gavin right up against the wall, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair and tug him into a better angle. Gavin gasps a little when Ryan’s thumb presses against the side of his neck, just under his jaw - Ryan takes the chance to deepen the kiss, and Gavin’s _lost_ , for a moment, in the other man’s warm hands, the gentle pressure of his hand in Gavin’s hair, the occasional scrape of his teeth as he pulls back and presses in again. 

Okay, add _really fucking good kisser_ to the list of the Vagabond’s talents. 

When they pull apart, for a moment Gavin can’t even remember why they were making out in the first place; he closes his eyes, catching his breath, and when he opens them again Ryan’s looking over his shoulder.

“He’s walking again,” he murmurs, but Gavin flaps a hand; they can catch up with him. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes out, and Ryan turns to him, looking worried.

“You okay?” he asks, and Gavin can only stare up at him. He’s pretty sure Ryan is totally unaware of just what an attractive guy he is, which is just great, because now Gavin’s all flustered and Ryan’s just staring at him with that stupidly endearing _concern_. Gavin clears his throat a bit and straightens up.

“Good, I’m all good,” he assures him, and forces a grin. Ryan doesn’t look convinced, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Sorry about that,” he says, but Gavin reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.

“No need to be sorry,” he says. “It worked, didn’t it? What’s a cheeky snog between friends. Besides, it was… good.”

Ryan stares at him a moment longer before laughing; Gavin laughs too, and any awkwardness between them dissipates as they slowly follow along behind the dealer, keeping a bigger distance this time. Still, Gavin can’t help but be distracted as it suddenly sinks in that that’s the first person he’s kissed in a long time. He’s been so busy with moving over from England, and then with settling into the crew here, that he’s hit something of a dry spell lately.

“Sure you’re alright?” Ryan asks, glancing down at him, and Gavin nods, shaking himself.

“All good,” he assures him, then reaches out and grabs Ryan’s hand; Ryan looks down and grins a bit, and they continue on, focused on the job now that their cover’s intact.

 

* * *

 

Once his work’s finished for that day, Gavin finds himself taking the time to bring his bike in to Jeremy. 

He’s seen the other man a couple of times since their first meeting, now - always in a bigger group with the others, in meetings or planning sessions or when they go to pick up a vehicle from him. He’s a funny guy, very easy going, and both he and Matt fit in with the rest of them like a charm. Still - going to see him alone has Gavin funnily nervous, the way he was nervous when he first had to interact with Ryan, or when he met Geoff and Burnie in person for the first time.

“Jeremy?” he calls out, as he enters the big garage back at their main base. It’s getting late, and there’s no one else around, but Jeremy had told him he’d still be in. 

“Gavin?” Sure enough, he emerges a moment later from underneath one of the cars that’s been set up for repairs. He looks marvellously dishevelled; tank top clinging to him in places, sweaty hair pushed back from his forehead, little smudges of black grease over his arms. “How’d the job go?”

_Ah yes. The job where I bloody made out with Ryan,_ Gavin thinks, which doesn’t exactly help settle his nerves.

“Fine,” he replies, and tosses Jeremy a rag from nearby. The other man catches it and wipes down his hands, then his bare arms - Gavin swallows, trying not to stare too much. The no-sleeves look suits Jeremy, he’s got the biceps for it. Okay, what.

“Brought my bike in,” he says a bit helplessly, and Jeremy nods, eyes lighting up as he heads over. 

“Ooh, a H2R, that’s - okay, oh my God, what the hell did you do to this thing?” he demands, sounding rather horrified as he looks over the bike which, to be fair, is looking a _little_ the worse for wear (ie it possibly no longer drives _._ That large dent adds _character_ , though.) 

“Stunt jumps,” Gavin replies.

“It’s destroyed!” 

“Look, I never claimed they were successful stunt jumps,” Gavin says defensively, and Jeremy barks out a laugh.

“If the bike’s in this shape after them, I’m surprised you’re still alive,” he says, raising an eyebrow as he turns back to Gavin, who grins at him sheepishly. 

“I mean, the road rash is something to behold.” He rubs his side and Jeremy’s gaze flicks down his body before he looks back up at Gavin and quickly grabs the bike’s handlebars from him.  

“I’ll take a look at this,” he says, and Gavin nods awkwardly, taking a step back. 

He potters around the garage for a bit while Jeremy gets set up, looking over the different cars and what looks a lot like a police van that Jeremy’s been taking apart. When he wanders back over to Jeremy the other man is taking the bike apart and pulling faces at every bit of bent and twisted metal.

“You really did a number on this,” he says, and Gavin can only laugh and raise his hands. 

“Look… mistakes were made.”

Jeremy just shakes his head, rolling his eyes. He gets back to work and Gavin sits on the floor next to him, watching him in silence. He’s always been impressed watching people do things they’re good at; it’s a joy to see Ray carefully take aim with his rifle and take out a target in one hit, or to watch Michael carefully put together a bomb, or Dan have a go at a punching bag - it’s the same thing here; Jeremy obviously knows exactly what he’s doing and for a while Gavin’s transfixed watching him dismantle the bike, sort out the parts, tut over the state of the engine. His hands move efficiently, confidently, and when he gets up to lift things he moves with ease, obviously used to carrying heavy metal bits around. 

“You okay?” Jeremy asks abruptly, and Gavin jumps a bit, startled out of his reverie. His mind was wandering, a bit too interested in watching Jeremy work, and he feels suddenly flustered now. Jeremy’s eyebrows rise further when he fumbles for an answer. “You seem a bit out of it.”

“I kissed Ryan today,” Gavin blurts out. He’s not sure why it feels like it needs saying - maybe because none of the others know, because Ryan didn’t bring it up when telling Geoff how the job went.  

Jeremy blinks a few times, taken aback.

“ _Ryan_?” he asks, and Gavin nods - something odd passes across Jeremy’s face, but Gavin quickly continues:

“Our job today - we were about to get caught, we had to do something as a distraction. So we sort of made out for a few minutes.” He scratches at the garage floor next to him, fidgety, before pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Oh,” Jeremy replies, and takes a moment to mull it over. “Was that - weird? I mean, you guys are friends, right-”

“It wasn’t weird,” Gavin says. “I mean, he’s an attractive dude, inne? But yeah, we’re just friends, I… I dunno. Michael will tease me about it if I tell him.”

“Huh,” Jeremy says. He’s stopped working on the bike, is just watching Gavin now. “I mean… I don’t think a kiss is that big a deal, but that’s just me personally. But you must have girls lining up for you anyway, right? Or boys, if that’s what you’re into.”

“What?” Gavin asks, glancing up at him. “No… why would I?”

“I dunno,” Jeremy says, sounding defensive now, “You’re _you_ , you’re Gavin Free. It’s your job to  charm people.”

“Charm my way into deals, not their pants!”

“Yeah, but… you’ve got that whole accent thing going on, and…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely around his face, and Gavin blinks a few times before huffing out an embarrassed sort of laugh. 

“Maybe some people are into the accent,” he concedes, and then shrugs. “I dunno! I guess I haven’t had time to really go out on the town since I got here. And even when I do I don’t… pick up people a lot, I dunno. I find it nerve wracking. Guess I’m just shy.” 

“Really?” Jeremy asks. He’s smiling, and when Gavin nods his grin widens. “Wouldn’t have thought that. You’re different in person to how I imagined you.” 

“You _imagined_ me?” Gavin demands, and Jeremy laughs. He’s the one who looks embarrassed now.

“I kept hearing about all the jobs you did with the others when you were over here! And the stuff in England too. Of course I was curious.”  

“Right,” Gavin says drily, then laughs. “Well, I might not have heard a bunch of stories about you, but I’m very impressed by what I’ve seen so far.” 

“Oh?” Jeremy asks, raising an eyebrow.  

“By the - the garage stuff,” Gavin quickly adds, and Jeremy’s eyebrows rises further before he breaks down laughing - genuine, booming laughter, but with a faint undercurrent of something a bit embarrassed. 

“Don’t laugh,” Gavin says, and then adds, “You’re intimidating.”

“ _I’m_ intimidating?” Jeremy cries. “ _You’re_ intimidating, you’re _Gavin Free_.”

“Yeah, but you’re…” he trails off. Jeremy’s just - _Jeremy_ , he might be a good few years younger and a _lot_ shorter and so much newer to the crew that it’s ridiculous, but somehow - something about him has put Gavin on-edge since they met. On-edge in a good way, in a way that means he wants to see more of him - but in a way that makes him too-aware of everything he says, everything he does around him. 

“You have _presence_ ,” he says, which is something he’s heard people say about Geoff and Ryan a lot. Jeremy just laughs more. 

“I gotta say, I’ve never heard that one before. Mostly I just blend into the background,” he says. “But thanks,” he adds, and reaches out and sort of bumps Gavin’s shoulder with his fist before getting up and turning back to the bike as he says, “You don’t need to be intimidated by _me_. Unless you ruin this gorgeous bike again, then I’ll turn into Scary Jeremy.” 

“Scaremy,” Gavin says immediately, and can’t help but smile widely when that makes Jeremy crack up again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: some harassment, discussion of drinks being spiked (doesn't actually happen)

**3\. Jack**

“He’s in St Scholastica’s hospital, two blocks away from the bank,” Geoff says, the second he puts down the phone. And then, “Fuck, fuck, okay. Fuck.”

Things go wrong on heists. It’s a given. Usually they’re prepared, back up plans upon back up plans to get everyone out of dodge if the police show up unexpectedly, or something doesn’t go the way they want it to.

Usually, though, things don’t go this _spectacularly wrong_. 

This time, it’s Gavin’s fault.

He wasn’t even in the bank with the others. He was outside, with Ray, providing covering fire from the roof of a building across the street. The police showed up about the time they expected them to - but the bombs didn’t go off to stop them, which meant he and Ray were working double time to keep them out of the building until the others could escape.

Jack had been the getaway driver but as he was heading for the meeting point of Plan D (yes, it was so bad that they’d already discarded Plans Awesome, Bit-Not-Good, and Crap-Things-Are-Falling-Apart and were up to Plan Dick) Gavin got a _bit_ trigger happy and shot out the wheels of a police car that was getting too close, causing the car to spin around and crash into Jack’s.

Shit, shit, shit.

He was alive, that much they knew. But both cars had flipped and police and onlookers had hurried forward to get the occupants out. Jack had been injured - they knew that much - and the last thing they saw was him being piled into an ambulance and taken away before they had to make their own escape.

The bright side: Apparently everyone thought he was just a random civilian driver who’d accidentally been caught up in the failed heist.

The not-so-bright side: It wouldn’t be long before the hospital started trying to work out who the hell he was and realised that they had one of the Fake AH Crew right in their midst; a helpless sitting duck.

“Thank fuck he shaved his beard last week,” Geoff mutters now, as they stand grimly about in the boardroom. “He’s fucking unrecognisable without that thing; it’ll buy us some time. But we still need to get him out of there right now before they start trying to work out who he is.”

“That’s one of the biggest hospitals in the city,” Michael says, frowning. “We can’t exactly _sneak_ him out of there.”

“We can’t go into a hospital guns blazing, though,” Ryan points out, and Michael nods.

“That’s true. Too much innocent collateral.”

“We’re just gonna need to try and sneak him out,” Geoff says flatly. “If they don’t know who it is they won’t let anyone in to see him unless someone poses as, like, his partner or something, and then gets him the fuck out of there before they can start checking.”

“Who can go in?” Michael asks, and all eyes turn to Gavin.

He’s been standing silently at the edge of the table, slowly guilting himself to death. _Idiot. Bloody idiot, why’d you have to shoot that car - didn’t you_ know _that was Jack nearby?_

_Thought it was another random car. Forgot we were up to Plan D, he wouldn’t have been on that road otherwise._

_Not an excuse. Idiot. If he gets got it’s on you-_

“Gav,” Geoff snaps, and he jerks back to attention. “You think you can do this?”

“Pose as his boyfriend?” he asks, and swallows. “I… I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t have much damn choice,” Geoff says, a bit annoyed now. “They’ll recognise any of the rest of us on the spot. You’re still new enough that you have a chance, not to mention you can probably sell a lie the best of all of us. You got him into this,” he adds, and Gavin flinches, “You can fucking get him out of it.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and Geoff softens a bit, then, seeming to feel bad about snapping at him. Gavin doesn’t blame him; one of their own being in such a tight situation is stressful. Especially since it’s _Jack_ , who Geoff’s known for so long - Jack who’s injured and they don’t even know how badly. Of course Geoff’s freaked out about it.

And it is his fault, after all.

“Michael, you set up a diversion for the police,” Geoff orders then, turning to the other man. “Ryan, go with him. I’ll grab the blueprints of the hospital. Gav, go clean yourself up, you can’t go in looking like that or they’ll be suspicious. Everyone get ready, we don’t have much time.”

Everyone jolts into action, hurrying out of the safe house to do their respective jobs. Gavin turns and sees Michael go to Ray’s side as they split apart, one hand resting on his arm, leaning in close to mutter something in his ear. He can’t tell what they’re saying from this distance but it looks like Michael’s reassuring Ray; the other man looks upset, probably worried about Jack - he’s nodding, staring into Michael’s eyes as the other man speaks to him in hushed tones. Michael’s hand never leaves Ray’s shoulder, the other man leaning into his touch.

Gavin swallows, fists clenching by his sides - standing, alone, by the table - before shaking himself and hurrying out to go and get ready.

 

* * *

 

 

He sort of freaks out while he’s in the bathroom prepping to go in.

Not a big freak out. Just a little, baby freak out. So sue him, he’s entitled to one, Jack not getting fucking arrested sort of all rests on his shoulders here. And the thing is, Geoff said he was the best at lying, except he’s _not_ , not really - his job isn’t _about_ lying, it’s about bargaining and charming and convincing people to give him what he wants. Not directly pretending to be someone he’s not.

So he’s standing there, staring at his own stupid reflection in the mirror, trying to cover up a black eye he got while escaping from the roof with Ray with concealer. The police shot back at them as they were leaving and when one of them hit the wall a bit too close to Gavin’s head he threw himself back to avoid it and banged his face into the rail of the fire escape. It’s already bruising spectacularly and it’s not a good look, especially for someone about to walk into a bleedin’ _hospital_ under the guise of being a normal civilian-

Except his hands are shaking horribly, and he can’t quite get them to stop, and he can’t apply the make up properly. Every attempt to blend it in is just smudging it everywhere and making it look worse and worse and he’s getting _frustrated_ , now, muttering curses under his breath and breathing too fast and nothing’s _working_ and everything’s just going _wrong_ -

A knock at the door startles him so much that he accidentally pokes himself in the eye and he hisses in pain, dropping the concealer in favour of gripping the edge of the sink while screwing his eyes shut; it’s stinging horribly. 

“ _Eff_ ,” he shouts, eloquently.

“Gavin?” It’s Jeremy’s voice behind the door, and he freezes. “Everything alright in there?”

Gavin bites his lip; Jeremy wasn’t involved in the heist and he has no idea what he’s doing here, in the safehouse. Part of him is relieved to hear the other man’s voice, the other half doesn’t particularly want to interact with _anyone_ right now, when he’s all over the place and everything seems to be going to shit.

“Fine,” he calls back, though it comes out very strained.

“Are you ready to leave? I’m driving you there.”

“Not… not yet,” Gavin replies, rather helplessly. There’s a silent pause and then he hears the door opening; the next thing he knows Jeremy is next to him and there’s a warm hand on his arm.

“Hey,” Jeremy says, and his voice is so gentle that it’s almost upsetting. “Hey, you’re shaking - slow down, okay?”

“Can’t slow down,” Gavin replies, and frantically snatches the concealer up again. “We need to leave as soon as possible but I can’t stop making a bloody mess of things-”

“Gavin.” Jeremy’s hands are folding over his, now, holding him still. “ _Slow down_. I’ll help you.”

Gavin finally pauses, looking down at the other man. Jeremy meets his eyes, something open and earnest in his face, and something calm descends over Gavin then. Jeremy knows what he’s doing, he always does. Gavin’s never once seen him mess up a job, whether on the field or in the garage. He’ll sort this out.

He takes a deep breath and Jeremy smiles, squeezing his hands, thumb running soothingly over Gavin’s knuckles.

“Good,” he says. “You’re fine. Sit down and I’ll help you with that.”

“Sorry,” Gavin mumbles, even as he takes a step back and sits down on a stool next to the bath tub. “‘m slowing us down.”

“No, you’re fine,” Jeremy assures him, taking the concealer and then grabbing a face washer from next to the sink, dampening it with warm water before handing it to Gavin. “Wipe all that shit off, we’ll start from scratch. No need to rush, okay? We still have time.”

“Jack-”

“Is fine for now, Ray’s keeping tabs on what’s going on at the hospital. Better to take our time and do this properly than rush in and mess it up, okay?” He crouches in front of Gavin and smiles again, and after a moment Gavin nods and wipes the mess of makeup off his face. 

“That hurt?” Jeremy asks after a moment, and Gavin shakes his head.

“Had worse. Just looks awful.”

“We can fix it. Hold still.”

Gavin closes his eyes, trying to slow his breathing. There’s something careful and tentative to how Jeremy reaches up with one hand to hold Gavin’s head steady, his other hand dabbing the concealer over the black eye. He’s very gentle, not pressing too hard against the bruise, and Gavin bites his lip, fighting back a shiver as he finds himself suddenly hyper aware of Jeremy’s light touch; how his fingers are calloused and rough but somehow very delicate as he deftly rubs the make up in around Gavin’s eye.

When he feels Jeremy start to withdraw he opens his eyes and is surprised to find just how much the other man was leaning in; there’s an awkward moment where they stare at each other, faces very close, before Jeremy clears his throat a little and pulls back.

“Good as new,” he says, and Gavin rises and goes over to the mirror. The bruise is barely visible, although his eye is still horribly red from where he jabbed it before. It’s fine, he needs to look upset anyway, considering he’s meant to have just found out his partner was involved in a car accident.

He turns to find Jeremy watching him and can’t help the rush of relief and fondness he feels for the other man.

“Thank you,” he says, sincerely, and Jeremy smiles, shrugging, his hands moving to jam into his pockets.

“All good. You okay now? Ready to do this?”

Gavin nods, taking a few deep breaths.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

“You’ll be fine. Let’s head out.” Jeremy moves to the door and then holds it open for him; even focused as he is on getting in the zone Gavin can’t help but feel a bit flustered by that, especially when he feels the other man’s hand rest briefly on his back for a moment as he passes by, a reassuring little touch.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m sorry, you’re who?”

“His partner,” Gavin repeats, his voice high and hysterical and hopefully sounding on the verge of tears. He wouldn’t know; he hasn’t cried in years, and the last time he got close was when he got drunk and Michael sat on him on the couch and forced him to watch _Titanic_. “Please, I heard - I heard there was a shooting in the area he was meant to be going to and I got worried and then I saw his car was part of the wreck and apparently he’s here, he-”

“What’s his name?” the nurse cuts in. “We had one civilian brought in alongside the police officers.”

“Mark,” Gavin says, “Big ginger guy? Look, I… I’ll answer all your questions after, just let me see him, _please_.”

She’s already nodding, ushering him through the hospital.

“It’s good that you’re here. We couldn’t identify him and didn’t have any of his medical records.”

“I’ll help you with everything, just let me see him - is he badly hurt?” Gavin demands. The clinical bright lights and bustling business of the hospital are stressing him out, making him worry that maybe Jack didn’t quite get out of this okay.

“He hit his head, but it’s not too serious. Superficial injuries, but we want to do more tests to make sure - with you here to sign off on them, that can go ahead. Do you have his insurance information?”

“Let me see him first,” Gavin says, shakily, and she nods as she leads him into one of the wards. He’s relieved to find that Jack’s ended up in a private room, albeit a very small one, and when she opens the door he practically runs to the man’s bedside.

Jack’s unconscious, or asleep, Gavin can’t really tell. He’s got a spectacular black eye and a few scrapes and grazes, but his breathing is even - and his heart rate, from what Gavin can tell on the monitor - and the relief that floods through him isn’t even faked as he leans over and gently hugs him, pressing his forehead to Jack’s for a moment.

“I’m here, love,” he murmurs, making sure it’s loud enough for the nurse to hear - she’s watching him from the door, “I’m here now, it’s all fine.”

“What’s his last name?” she asks, and Gavin looks up.

“Nutt,” he says. “With two T’s.”

She nods, bustling out of the room, and Gavin acts fast. The fake name will distract her enough trying to look it up that he’ll have time to get Jack out, if everything goes well. He’s already taken note of what part of the hospital they’re in, from the blueprints Geoff showed him, and he’s already got a route out in mind. 

“Jeremy,” he hisses, and the other man makes a noise of assent over the little comm Gavin’s got hidden under his beanie. 

“Gav? You heading out?”

“About to. South exit. I’ll have to be quick, this place is bloody busy.” He turns to the bed and shakes Jack frantically. If he’s dead-unconscious Gavin can get a wheelchair but he probably won’t be able to push Jack all that fast, and it’ll draw more attention. “Jack, wake up - wake up!”

Luckily, it seems Jack mostly is sleeping; when Gavin slaps the side of his face gently a few times, he stirs, eyes blinking blearily open. It takes a bit too long for them to focus, and even after he seems to zero in on Gavin’s face he still looks confused.

“Gav…?” he asks, weakly.

“Get up, we need to get the hell out of here.” Gavin’s already leaning in, wrapping an arm around his waist and heaving him upright.

Jack’s already obeying, even if he still seems super out of it. It’s instinct, more than anything; any one of them will go into autopilot in a dangerous situation like this, and if one of the others is around to lead them they’ll push through pretty much anything to keep the plan going smoothly.

“Are you in pain?” Gavin asks; Jack mumbles something indecipherable, but shakes his head. Gavin bites his lip, glancing at the door before pulling the IV out of Jack’s arm, and then turning off the heart monitoring machine before slipping it off Jack’s wrist. Even without the thing going off he’s worried the doctors will somehow know what he’s done, so he moves quickly, bundling Jack into the flimsy hospital dressing gown lying at the end of the bed before pulling him out.

Jack stumbles when he gets upright, and Gavin pulls his arm around his shoulders, steadying him. He seems a bit disoriented, but at least he’s upright and walking, and he wraps his other arm around Jack’s waist, supporting some of his weight as they start to walk.

“Dizzy?” he asks softly, and Jack nods. Gavin grimaces in sympathy. “Not too far. Get out of here and then Caleb can get a proper look at you. Jeremy, we’re on our way,” he adds.

“Moving the car now.”

The orderlies and some of the patients in the ward outside give him strange looks as they pass, but the nurse who brought him to Jack is nowhere in sight. When a passing doctor starts to walk towards them Gavin tightens his grip on Jack and leans in, pretending to murmur in his ear before kissing his cheek, and the woman stops in her tracks, seeming to assume that since they’re together, he knows what he’s doing.

They get to the end of the hall no problem, and Gavin makes an escape into the elevator. It’s full of people who are too busy with whatever they’re doing to pay any attention to him, and the second they hit the ground floor he makes for the exit, heart pounding.

Jack’s valiantly stumbling along and they make good time; as soon as they’re outside Gavin sees Jeremy’s car pulling up. He drags Jack over and bundles him into the backseat, climbing in next to him before hissing for Jeremy to “Drive, drive, she’s probably back by now and noticed we’re gone!”

Jeremy obeys, doing a very impressive U-turn in the crowded hospital carpark before sending them speeding out of there, and Gavin finally slumps back in the car seat. He feels like he’s just run a marathon even if all he did was walk through a building; his heart is slamming and he still feels nervous.

Jack’s slumped against his side and Gavin takes the time to sit him up properly, and then reach over and put his seat belt on. He’s blinking blearily now, seeming to be getting his bearings back some.

“Gavin?” he asks again, and Gavin puts his hands on his shoulders.

“Hey,” he says, gently. “You’re all good. We got you out. Nurse said you hit your head.”

“Car flipped,” Jack manages - and that’s a good sign, that he at least remembers what happened - “We going back to base?”

“Safehouse,” Gavin replies. “Then Geoff will probably send you off somewhere.” There are a number of hospitals that it’s safe for them to go to; ones where they know the directors and the doctors, have them on their payroll.

Jack nods. He still seems a bit out of it, and sitting there bundled up in the hospital robe, face bruised and without his glasses, he looks too much like a civilian. Too vulnerable. It doesn’t help that he shaved off the beard a couple of weeks ago and Gavin’s still getting used to how much younger he looks without it.

Jack still seems to be a bit dazed and sleepy from the stress of it all. They’re all exhausted from the job, anyway - the way they always get when the adrenaline fades away after a heist - and after a while he slumps against Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin shifts to make him more comfortable, wrapping an arm around him before pressing his forehead to Jack’s again. The relationship may have been fake but he does care deeply about the other man and the relief that he’s _fine_ is overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He still feels terrible about getting Jack into this mess in the first place.

Jack doesn’t seem to hear him - already passed out again - but Gavin catches Jeremy looking at him in the rear view mirror, eyes narrowing a bit. But he doesn’t say anything, and they drive on.

 

* * *

 

 

They get back to the safe house just fine, and the others immediately start fussing over Jack. Michael and Ryan are still out, causing havoc to distract the police, and Geoff, Caleb and Ray immediately set to getting Jack to a hospital.

Gavin retreats away during all the commotion and starts packing his stuff up, getting ready to go home.

He’s back in the bathroom washing the makeup off when Jeremy raps on the open doorframe. Gavin looks up, blinking water from his eyes, and frowns.

“What do you need?” he asks - he assumed the others wouldn’t want him around fucking anything else up today.

“Nothing,” Jeremy replies. “I came to check on you.”

“Me?” Gavin asks, and turns away to dry his face off. When he turns back Jeremy’s entered the room and is leaning against the wall by the sink. He feels oddly awkward suddenly, unsure what to do with his hands. “I’m fine.”

Jeremy raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Gavin nods.

“‘course,” he replies, and gestures at his face. He can see his bruise in the mirror with the concealer gone now; so dark it’s nearly black. “Just this damn eye, but I’ll put ice on it when I get home.”

He heads for the door but Jeremy shifts easily to stand in his way. Gavin comes to a stop, uncertain. Jeremy might be shorter but if Gavin tried to push past he could probably stop him.

Not that he wants to shove him out of the way - he hadn’t thought he wanted to see anyone else tonight, but Jeremy - Jeremy’s _different_. He’s eyeing Gavin with concern, still, and after a moment Gavin forces a smile.

“It was a bad day,” he admits. “But I’ll be fine. I mostly just want to sleep.”

Jeremy tilts his head.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” he says, and Gavin’s smile falters. “I heard about how Jack got hurt. It’s not on you.”

“I appreciate it,” Gavin tells him quietly, "But yeah, it is.”

“No, it’s not,” Jeremy insists. And then, when Gavin opens his mouth to protest again, “Did you do it deliberately?”

“Of course not!”

“Were you fooling around?”

Gavin shakes his head, and Jeremy smiles, looking so damn sure of himself.

“Then it was an accident. They happen. Not on you.”

“Tell that to Geoff,” Gavin mutters, and Jeremy looks a bit upset.

“I just saw him, actually,” he says. “He’s not mad at you, you know. None of them are.”

Gavin knows this, logically. But it doesn’t help his guilt, not after such a trying day when he’s exhausted and worn down and really needs a bloody drink.

“I appreciate it,” he says again, and tries to step past, but Jeremy catches his arm.

“It’s understandable that you blame yourself,” he says earnestly. “I get it, I really do. Just know that none of the rest of us do. And Caleb says Jack’ll be just fine.”

Gavin nods. The words are reassuring, even if he doesn’t quite believe them, and he smiles, more genuine this time.

“Thanks for today,” he says. “I mean it, I was… I was freaking out back there but you really helped, so.”

Jeremy raises and lowers a shoulder, looking almost bashful.

“It’s nothing,” he says. And then, a bit hesitantly, “Do you need a ride home?”

Gavin hesitates too, then nods. Jeremy gives a wide smile and finally steps out of his way. He holds the door open for Gavin again, resting a hand on his shoulder to guide him out.

Tired as he is, even walking out together Gavin’s buzzing with something more like butterflies than nerves. 

The thing is, he likes Jeremy a great deal.

He’d go so far as to say that he’s crushing on him, hard. By this point it’d be silly not to admit it; even before today they’ve been getting closer. Jeremy’s always funny, and easygoing, and Gavin always finds himself smiling around him, looking forward to seeing him, being so pleased when he manages to make the other man laugh. They’ve been hanging out in the garage a lot - he loves watching Jeremy work - have even gone for bike rides a couple of times, Jeremy showing him some of the best spots in the city.

And he was glad to see Jeremy today. There’s something so reassuring about him, so safe. Even now, after he didn’t want to see anyone else today, he doesn’t mind Jeremy taking him home.

So he likes him, a hell of a lot, but like fuck he’s about to do anything about it.

He never does, not with people he genuinely likes - is always far too terrified. Especially with a _co-worker_ , Christ. He was busy enough constantly moving between here and England that the last few years he’s never been properly interested in someone, but even just with friends he’s sort of... constantly worried that people find him annoying, especially now that he’s working with all the others permanently and they see each other every day. And if Jeremy does just like him as a friend, he’s not about to risk the humiliation.

Besides, Jeremy’s friendly to everyone. He’s just that kind of guy, and Gavin can’t think of any reason to hope or assume that the other man likes him back. 

Still. It doesn’t mean he still can’t be pleased that they’re spending time together. That he can’t take at least a little of what he can get and brush up against Jeremy’s side until the other man glances up at him, and grins a bit, and properly puts an arm around him as they walk.

 

* * *

 

**4\. Ray**

Their next heist goes a lot better.

Way, way better, in fact. They get out scott free and without a scratch, and head off to their favourite bar to celebrate. Everyone in this dive is the unsavoury type, so they’re free to make a ruckus. It’s crowded tonight, and while the FAHC has some drinks together, it’s not long before everyone splits off to do their own thing. Some of Burnie’s crew are here as well, good friends of theirs, and Gavin spends some time with them over at the pool table before eventually wandering off on his own when the night grows late and things start to quieten down with the others a bit. People are starting to head home now, tired, and since Burnie left it isn’t as fun.

He’s a bit too bevved already, hovering just at that edge where he’s thinking he should probably stop drinking.

Still, he heads back over to the bar and gets one more. ‘For the road,’ or… something; he’s not actually driving (he tends to just sort of… assume someone else will take care of him when they go out and do stuff like this, which he really probably shouldn’t) and he’s nursing it, letting the noise and babble of the crowded room drift over him, when a shadow falls over him.

“Drinking alone?” a deep voice drawls.

Gavin looks up. There’s some dude standing over him, smiling. He’s not half-bad looking, with slicked back dark hair and deep brown eyes. Very white teeth. Fantastic eyebrows. Still - there’s something sly about him, like a fox - or a weasel, Gavin thinks, with his big nose. In his drunken state, it makes him giggle. _Maybe our noses were magnetically attracted to each other, ha ha ha._

“Yes,” he replies, a bit belatedly, except that last drink really was a _mistake_ because he’s already feeling a bit all over the place.

Weasel’s eyebrows rise.

“Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be,” he says, and sits down next to Gavin. Maybe he’s not quite registering that he should get up and leave yet, maybe under the haze of alcohol this guy seems kinda interesting. Like he might be fun. “Can I get you another?”

Free bevs!

Oh man, he shouldn’t, he’s had too much already.

But also… free bevs.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying, and Weasel grins, and calls the bartender over, and when their drinks arrive he scoots closer to Gavin and starts showing him all these pictures on his phone of really fancy sinks and trying to get his opinion on them in terms of, like, aesthetic and engineering and design and shit. It’s really very odd. Gavin’s not quite sure what this game is meant to be, but Weasel is pretty damn funny (and apparently a big fan of bathroom interior design?) except the next time he looks up, the man’s sort of…. migrated really, really close to him, his chin practically resting on Gavin’s shoulder as he holds his phone out between them.

“Another drink?” he asks, closing a picture of a sink that looks like a rock pool (which is pretty lush, in Gavin’s personal opinion) - he realises with a jolt that at some point he emptied his glass.

This time, at least, he has the presence of mind to at least realise that he’s a bit too far gone.

“I think I’m done,” he replies. His voice sounds slurred and thick even to his own ears.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Weasel’s voice is teasing but in his current state Gavin can’t really decipher the look on his face. What he is aware of is how the guy’s leaning in a bit too close, one hand resting on the back of Gavin’s barstool. “How about you come back to mine and have one there? You might get thirsty on the way over.”

Oh God, Gavin’s really too drunk for this. He should say no - _wants_ to say no - but can’t quite find a polite way to do it. Does he need to be polite? Just ‘no’ should work, right?

“No?” he says, a bit experimentally.

Weasel tuts. He’s so close Gavin feels his breath against his cheek, warm and strong with liquor as he says, “I bought you a _drink_ ,” as though that means something.

His hand shifts up to rest on Gavin’s hip; he’s too drunk to jump or jerk himself away before the man’s grip tightens - firm but not too hard, yet - but he’s stuck now sort of frantically trying to work out how they got from the sink pictures to this. Were the sink pictures some weird form of flirting?

But they were bloody _sinks_! Unless this guy is really into bathroom sex or something? That’d be… interesting, to put it one way.

He’s just so confused. But Weasel starts rubbing his side, now, which is really sort of creepy, and Gavin looks around the bar then and belatedly realised that most of the others have already left. That’s not very good - but before he can panic, someone else is coming up next to him, and he barely has time to register the familiar colour _purple_ before-

“Who’s your friend?”

Ray!

Thank God, blessed Ray. Blessed Ray who _doesn’t drink_ , ah yes, Ray will help him get home.

“This is…” Gavin begins, and trails off as he realises he doesn’t know the guy’s name. At least he’s let go of Gavin, now, though he’s still sitting way too close.

“I’m taking him home,” Weasel says - _‘Taking Him Home_ ’ is a very strange name, Gavin thinks, rather dazedly - except he sounds annoyed, testy, as he adds, “Who are you?” And then leans in and whispers, almost conspiratorially - “I was here _first_ ; find your own.”

Even drunk as he is, Gavin knows Ray’s singularly unimpressed. He’s radiating that ‘ _not fucking amused’_ vibe that he gets when Geoff breaks out the Monopoly and announces that it’s team bonding time.

“I’m his fucking boyfriend is what,” he snaps - it takes a moment for it to sink in for Gavin - “Get the hell off him.”

“You’re his _boyfriend_?” Weasel demands. He doesn’t sound like he believes it.

“Yeah,” Ray snaps. “Isn’t that right, Vav?”

He leans in close, fingers curling around the back of Gavin’s neck. Gavin stares up at him, struggling to clear his head - but even now he can see the concern in Ray’s eyes, the little furrow of his brow, and can tell he’s trying to check him over to see if he’s okay. And okay, yeah, this situation _really_ isn’t good, and he has the presence of mind to decide to go along with this.

“Yep X-Ray!” he declares, cheerfully. “You’re my boi!”

Ray’s lips twitch.

“No, Michael’s your boi,” he replies, “I’m your boy _friend_. Come on, idiot, you’re too drunk. Let’s get you home. Unless,” he adds coldly, glancing over Gavin’s shoulder at Weasel, “We have a problem here.”

Ray’s a small guy, but he can be kinda fucking intimidating with the whole quiet thing. Silent but violent, y’know? Not to mention, no one would be hanging out in a bar like this if they weren’t dangerous.

Weasel’s watching them suspiciously, but he doesn’t comment, just watches silently as Ray pulls Gavin up, steadying him. And okay, Gavin’s way drunker than he thought. When he stands up he stumbles, the world spinning around him like a carousel. Ray’s practically hugging him to keep him upright. He smells like pizza. It’s wonderful.

“Ray, Ray, Ray,” he says happily, wrapping his arms around him.

Ray huffs, long suffering but amused.

“Yep,” he says. “Come on, buddy.”

He hefts Gavin upright, keeping one arm looped around his waist as he manages to get him outside. The fresh cold air hits them like a slap in the face. It’s way later than Gavin thought, and dark outside the bar as Ray props him up against the wall. The hard brick against his back is steadying, grounding, brings him back to himself a little.

“Holy shit,” Ray mutters, as he lets go of Gavin and scans him over. “How drunk are you?”

Gavin flaps a hand, and Ray frowns.

“Gav - did he buy you a drink?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, did he put something in it?”

Gavin blinks a few times, a little shock of alarm running through him - but he’s been drugged before - people have a nasty tendency to try to get to his employers through him - he knows what it feels like and this isn’t it.

“Nahhh, Ray,” he assures him. “I just had too much. I feel a bit sick now, actually.”

It’s the sudden cold air. It’s got his stomach turning, and he coughs a few times before wrapping his arms around himself. Ray rolls his eyes and reaches out, rubbing Gavin’s arm soothingly.

“That guy touch you?” he asks. His voice is casual but there’s an undercurrent of something sharp and dangerous. ”Do I need to stab someone? ‘cause I will.”

Gavin shakes his head.

“No, I’m fine. He showed me a lot of sinks.”

Ray’s eyebrows rise.

“Is sinks a euphemism for something?” he asks.

“No. _Sinks_ , Ray,” Gavin insists, and starts telling him all about it. He’s just finished describing the glass waterfall sink, with accompanying hand-gestures, when Ryan and Jeremy suddenly materialise. 

“Gavin?” Ryan asks.

“Rye-bread!” Gavin says happily. Ryan’s got his mask off but he’s still wearing his heavy leather jacket. It’s a weird contrast, seeing his bare face without paint or anything when he’s still in his Vagabond getup. “You weren’t here before!”

“Ray texted me,” Ryan says. “I was just on my way home. You okay?”

“I’m top.” He’s sobering up a little, from the cold air and the bottle of water that Ray shoved in his hand at some point. He’s more tipsy than anything, now.

“You sure?” Ryan asks, with that same endearing concern he always has when one of them gets so much as a scratch. “Ray said there was a guy.”

“Yeah, Sink Guy,” Gavin says. “He was well weird! And apparently wanted to bang me. But I’m all good,” he says cheerily, “Ray pretended to be my boyfriend.”

Ray shrugs when the others turn to look at him.

“Less trouble than getting in a fight,” he says.

“Ryan’s a good kisser, Ray,” Gavin announces. It seems like a marvellous comment to make at the time - Jeremy rolls his eyes, laughing, and Ray just looks very confused. Ryan’s face goes bright pink, which Gavin personally thinks is a brilliant development.

“Okay,” Ryan says, quickly. “Who’s getting him home?”

“I can,” Jeremy pipes up.

Ah yes. Jeremy. Lovely Jeremy whose go-to post heist bevs outfit apparently involves a cowboy hat. His sunglasses are hooked in the front of his shirt, pulling the collar down into a little ‘v’ that exposes just enough chest to catch Gavin’s attention. Lovely Jeremy. Beautiful Jeremy. Okay, Gavin’s staring now. Stop staring.

Luckily, Jeremy’s focused on Ryan.

“Is it out of your way?” the other man asks, and Jeremy shakes his head.

“No, it’s no trouble. On the way, actually.”

“Okay,” Ryan says, and seems relieved, reaching out to squeeze Jeremy’s shoulder. “Thanks. Text me once you get him home. Goodnight, Gavin.”

“Are we breaking up now?” Gavin asks Ray, very solemnly.

“Yeah,” Ray says. “Sorry.”

“You love Michael anyway,” Gavin says, without even thinking about it - Ray turns bright red, but Gavin barrells on, “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

“Dear God,” Ray says flatly. “Sober yourself up before tomorrow, dude. Also, we’re gonna have a big, serious talk about how drunk you let yourself get in that place.”

“I can take care of myself,” Gavin assures him, flippantly. “I’d’ve ripped his dick off if he tried anything too bad. With my _bare hands_ , Ray. I’d’ve done it.”

Ray’s lips twitch. “That sounds like a very Michael thing to do.”

“He’d use his bear hands,” Gavin says, and giggles. “That was bear like B-E-A-R. Like Mogar, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Ray sighs, “I got it, Vav. Take care of yourself, alright? Sorry, Jeremy,” he adds, but Jeremy just smiles.

“I got him,” he says, and Ray and Ryan wander off together. Gavin watches them leave, only for his attention to be drawn when Jeremy grabs his hand and starts leading him down the street, presumably to his car. For a few long moments Gavin’s transfixed by the fact that they’re _touching_ , that Jeremy’s fingers are slotted between his and seem to fit so perfectly.

“You’re holding my hand,” he blurts out, and Jeremy lets go instantly.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding terribly embarrassed.

“No, it’s good,” Gavin assures him, grabbing his hand again. “I mean, you don’t _have_ to, I’m fine. I really gotta piss, but I’m fine.”

“Wonderful,” Jeremy says, lips twitching, but takes Gavin’s hand again. 

Alone out here in the streets in the middle of the night, things feel a bit surreal. All Gavin can really pay attention to is Jeremy, Jeremy who’s tugging him gently along, who’s got his sleeves rolled up - another fantastic look on him. Forearms, dude. 

“You’re so lovely to take me home, Jeremy,” Gavin practically coos; he’s not so drunk anymore as to not know what he’s doing, but he’s just out of control enough that he can’t stop the words slipping from his lips as soon as they enter his mind. “Lovely little Jeremy. Lil’ J. J-Doolz. Jezza.”

“Not Jezza,” Jeremy says immediately, with a tremendous snort, and Gavin laughs.

“Okay then. Worth a shot.”

“You want me to call you Gazza?” Jeremy asks, and Gavin laughs harder.

“No,” he protests, “Sounds like gozz.”

“What’s gozz?”

“ _Spit_ , Jeremy, when you spit an’ all. Michael would know. I need to teach you English. Later. When I can think properly.”

Jeremy just laughs. They reach the car and he opens the door, ushering him in. Gavin hums happily when Jeremy leans over him to buckle his seatbelt, even though he could do it himself if he wanted to. He’s not _that_ drunk-

But he is _some_ drunk, he realises, oh God. Drunk is when he makes a move on people. He can’t do it any other way; always gets bevved up before asking anyone to come home with him. It’s like, automatic by now. The flirting only starts when he’s had a few.

“I like your hat,” he says, as Jeremy gets in his own seat and starts to drive. When he starts the engine all the lights on the dashboard turn on and Gavin flinches and puts a hand up. “It’s too bright in here. My head hurts.”

“Because you’re drunk,” Jeremy says patiently, but Gavin shakes his head.

“No, because it’s _bright._ Your head hurts when you’re hungover. Won’t be hungover until I sleep.”

“I see,” Jeremy says. “Here."

He unhooks his sunglasses from his shirt. Gavin thinks he’s gonna hand them over, but instead he reaches across and puts them on Gavin’s face himself. Gavin can’t help but beam. This currently feels like the most wonderful thing that could possibly have happened, even if now it is very hard to see, since it’s dark out and the car has tinted windows and the shades are pretty dark. When Jeremy starts to drive he barely even realises.

Jeremy glances over at him and snorts.

“Can you even see anything with those on at night?” he asks.

“Nope!” Gavin says. “Do they suit me?”

“Cute,” Jeremy says, and Gavin grins, leaning back in his seat, a funny sort of thrill shooting through him.

“I do like you a lot, Jeremy,” he finds himself saying, barely even registering how or why or whether this is the best time to do this. Suddenly he just really wants Jeremy to know, to _understand_.

“I like you too, Gav,” Jeremy says. There’s something fond in his voice, and Gavin turns towards him.

“Do you really?”

“Of course,” Jeremy says.

“Are you sure, though? It’s okay if you don’t.” Drunk Gavin is usually a lot more fun than this, but he can’t help the niggling little insecurity that creeps into his tone. Reason number one why he _does_ get himself full of drink before approaching anyone he’s interested in is because he finds rejection so crushing, and it’s easier to take with some liquid courage in him.

“I like you a lot, Gavin,” Jeremy repeats, and he sounds hesitant at first, but when he continues his voice is firm and sincere. “You’re fun. I like when you keep me company in the garage, and when we go out on rides. But you gotta be careful,” he adds, sounding worried - still, it seems, preoccupied by what happened back at the bar. “There are creeps out there.”

“I can handle myself,” Gavin says - because he _can_ , really; he’s glad Ray got him out but he’d’ve managed on his own if he had to, he has before.

“I know,” Jeremy says, and even through the dark glasses Gavin catches his smile. “I like that about you too.”

They’re approaching Gavin’s suburb, now. He doesn’t live far. Suddenly the need for Jeremy to get, to properly _get_ exactly how _much_ Gavin likes him feels pressing and desperate.

“I’m rather bevved,” he admits, “But I’m not talking out my ass right now. I’m really glad you joined the crew. I like having you around. I like _you_.”

“Thanks, Gavin,” Jeremy says, still so blessedly patient. “That means a lot.”

Gavin bites his lip, starting to grow a bit frustrated - especially when they pull up outside his door and still nothing’s happened. Nothing’s progressed - and suddenly he wants it to, _needs_ it to. If he was sober, he might be content to leave things. To wait and let them develop.

But right now - to part tonight just as friends feels marvellously disappointing. Maybe he’s gotta be more forward.

Jeremy parks and comes around to Gavin’s side of the car - he’s already climbing out.

“You can get in on your own?” Jeremy thinks.

“I don’t think so,” Gavin replies immediately - anything to get him to stay a little longer. Jeremy rolls his eyes.

“Maybe because you can’t fucking see with those glasses on,” he points out, and Gavin just grins and shrugs.

“Can I have your hat too?” he asks, and Jeremy chuckles and takes it off his own head, putting it on Gavin’s instead. It’s warm from where he was wearing it and Gavin cocks it at an angle and then points finger guns at Jeremy, who starts laughing. Gavin can’t help his grin, wide and happy and far too real.

“I like it when you laugh,” he says simply, and Jeremy smiles as he gets himself out of control.

“Okay, okay,” he says, and then adds, more seriously, “You’re drunk, Gavin.”

“I _told_ you,” Gavin insists, “I mean all this, I’m not talking out of my ass.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says again, but he’s still not _getting_ it and it seems Gavin’s gonna have to be really, _really_ bloody forward here.

This involves him stepping forward and putting his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders and announcing, solemnly, “Jeremy, I’m trying to tell you I like you here.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says, and then, “ _Oh_.”

“Did you not realise that?” Gavin demands. “Look, I gotta be drunk to tell people, it’s a… a thing, I think I told you about it before, I just can’t do it when I’m not bevved up-”

“There are multiple flaws to that approach,” Jeremy says, but he’s grinning widely now, and Gavin pushes the sunglasses up so he can look at him properly.

“You’re smiling,” he says, and feels a great swell of something warm in his chest, “That’s good, right?”

“It is good,” Jermey says softly.

Gavin beams. Jeremy looks - really, _really_ happy, he’s all flushed and smiling and his cheeks are pink and his eyes are sparkling and Gavin wants to kiss him, suddenly, and starts to lean in, but Jeremy quickly grabs him and yanks him into a hug instead. Gavin’s a bit startled, but hugs him back tightly. He has to bend over a little, but Jeremy’s arms are tight around him and he can feel even from here how strong the other man is. It is a wonderful hug. Jeremy is very warm and very cuddly and it is probably the best hug Gavin’s ever been the recipient of, but he _did_ want to kiss him - except when he starts to pull back and lean in again, Jeremy’s arms tighten around him, keeping him in place.

“You’re drunk,” he murmurs in Gavin’s ear. “I know you keep saying you’re in control, but you were like, shitfaced back there, Gavin. Even if you sobered up I can’t do anything when you’re like this.”

Gavin bites his lip. He wants to protest, but Jeremy’s already pulling back. 

“Get some rest,” he tells Gavin earnestly. “Stay hydrated. We’ll talk about this later.”

God if those aren’t the five most terrifying words he’s ever heard. It must show on his face, because Jeremy reaches up and cups his cheek, gently.

“Hey,” he assures him. “We will talk about this, okay? But you gotta sleep first, get yourself sorted out. We’ll do this properly. Alright?”

“Okay,” Gavin says. Jeremy says it with his usual calm confidence, and it makes so much sense when it comes from him. He smiles. “Goodnight then, lil’ J! Here’s your hat!”

He takes it off and plonks it back on Jeremy’s head; the other man grins.

“Keep the glasses,” he says. “They suit you.” 

He squeezes Gavin’s shoulder one more time before turning and getting back in his car. He doesn’t leave, though - waits until Gavin’s gotten inside before he drives away. Gavin watches him through the glass panel above his door and then turns away, wandering dazedly off to the bathroom, and then to bed.

_That was as good as a yes, right?_ He thinks, mulling over everything that happened. How he finally made a move - it doesn’t feel real - that Jeremy… wanted to agree? But just didn’t want to do it when Gavin might not be thinking clearly. Considerate Jeremy. Lovely Jeremy. That's just like him. _But he did_ want _to. That’s as good as a yes._ Or at least, in his drunken mind, it seems to be, and he slips peacefully away into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Gavin wakes up with a splitting headache, an awful taste in his mouth, and a pair of sunglasses digging painfully into his temples. He sits up with a groan and pulls them off, grimacing as he runs his fingers over the indents they left in his skin.

_Holy shit, I didn’t_ feel _too drunk last night but I’m sure feeling it now. Bloody idiot._

He rubs his eyes, trying to clear his groggy mind and work out exactly where he’s at-

Only to freeze when he looks down at the sunglasses in his lap and realises they’re not his.

_Jeremy’s._ And it all comes back, now - the other man driving him home - his stupid, _stupid drunken notion_ that last night, _last bloody night_ when he was tipsy as hell and not thinking straight was the right time to make a move-

And God, he remembers thinking it all went tremendously well, but it’s hard to tell when you’re drunk, isn’t it - he might have been seeing what he wanted to see, reading into things wrong - especially because he can’t remember, this morning, what Jeremy said to him before he left - _he left-_

_Dear God,_ Gavin thinks, horrified as he struggles to remember exactly what happened, where he stands with the other man now. _What the fuck did I do last night?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going overseas tomorrow so there might be a little wait until the next chapter :') but i hope everyone has a happy Christmas in the meantime!


	3. Chapter 3

**5\. Michael**

The next day at work, Gavin is a man on a mission.

A mission to _avoid Jeremy at all bloody costs_.

Oh God. The more he thinks about it, the more certain he is that he’s stuffed everything up horribly. That last night he humiliated himself and Jeremy was just being nice, humouring a drunken fool, and he thought it was going _so well_ when in reality it was just the beer goggles and he really made an absolute tit of himself. And today-

Today he’s so terrified of encountering Jeremy and seeing the rejection in his eyes that he makes an active effort to avoid him. He’s fucked up, fucked up so badly and now he can’t face him.

Oh Lord. Oh dear. Okay. Just - avoid him. If he can’t _find_ you, he can’t turn you down, or that’s Gavin’s logic, anyway.

He ends up going to Jack and asking him to return the sunglasses to Jeremy for him. Jack looks confused, but agrees to. He hasn’t been back at work for a little bit, Geoff insisting that he take the time to completely recover from his head injury, and while it’s nice to see him back, Gavin also associates it with just how Jeremy helped him during that whole sorry business.

_Bugger it all,_ he thinks, _he seemed to care so much? He was so kind to me and now I’ve just completely fucked up our friendship. It’ll be awkward after this no matter what happens. Great going, Free._

Hiding out most of the day is stressful. Jeremy normally spends most of his time in the garage but today he seems to be wandering around more than usual, and Gavin has to do some very sneaky ninja tricks to avoid him. For real, he jumps out a window at one point (which sounds very epic but it was on the ground floor and he had to clamber over the sink to get through it, but Jeremy was striding purposefully towards the break room, he had _no choice_ , okay, there was no other door out).

Still. He manages to survive, and he’s just packing up to go home - peering out the door in both directions before creeping out of his office-

Only walk straight into _Ryan_ , who’s sprung out of nowhere.

“Yikes!” is apparently what Ryan yells when he crashes into someone. Gavin would normally be amused by this but right now he’s recovering from the mini-heart attack he just had upon encountering someone suddenly. He thought it might be Jeremy. Which is stupid because Ryan’s about a foot taller, but look, he’s _on edge,_ okay. He’s more tightly strung than a violin.

“For someone so tall you can be very sneaky!” he cries - while slumped against the wall clutching at his chest, which is probably why Ryan looks very concerned.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look sorta… weird,” Ryan says, and Gavin pulls a face at him.

“I’m _fine_. I’m just going home.”

“Oh! Jeremy was looking for you earlier, I was coming to tell you,” Ryan says. “He’s still down in the garage. He said he couldn’t find you all day.”

Oh God. Jeremy’s actively on the hunt! This is worse than expected. Being ignored would have been awkward, but it would at least be _bearable,_ and eventually they might’ve been able to get back to normal. But no. Jeremy’s trying to _tell_ him something.

_He’s gonna let me down gently,_ Gavin thinks, miserably. _He’ll be so nice about it - he’s that sort of guy, of course - but I still won’t be able to stand it. You idiot. This isn’t just a crush_ , he realises suddenly - surprised by the intensity of the dread that hits him at the thought of Jeremy’s soft, pitying eyes, his gentle hand on Gavin’s shoulder as he tells him “Look, I just don’t like you like _that_.”

Definitely not just a crush. _You properly like him and he thinks you’re a drunken idiot now; an idiot who gets too bevved up and lets other guys buy you drinks before going to profess your love when you’re barely sober. What a fool. What a tomfool!_

Well. There is nothing to be done. He nods at Ryan, and mutters something about going to talk to him, and then runs out of the base as fast as he can and hops on his bike and drives straight to McDonalds where he stress-eats an entire twenty pack of Chicken McNuggets. There is no reason for Jeremy to come to McDonalds. Gavin can continue to avoid him as long as possible. Maybe he can convince Burnie to give him some jobs; get himself out of the base.

Gavin does not believe in ripping off the bandaid. Rather, he is so afraid of it that he’d rather slowly, slowly peel it off, even if that ends up prolonging the pain.

But as it is, he does not have much time to wallow in his own problems before getting dragged into _Michael’s_.

He realises, at work the next day, that the other man is acting very strangely around Ray. If anything, he seems like he’s avoiding him too? Or something like that, Gavin’s not quite sure, except that he’s sitting with Michael in the armoury when Ray wanders in.

“Wanna grab lunch?” Ray asks. It’s plainly directed just at Michael, and Gavin assumes they’re gonna go out the way they usually go out ( _totally_ not a date, apparently, even if it seems to be just the two of them staring soulfully into each other’s eyes while eating pasta like some weird version of _Lady and the Tramp_ where they’re both tramps. Criminal tramps).

Except Michael looks up, then, and his shoulders stiffen.

“Just us?” he asks.

Ray shifts awkwardly and glances over at Gavin.

“Well… I guess the others could come too, if they wanted?”

Michael bites his lip.

“No thanks,” he says. “I’m fine.”

Ray looks disappointed, but Michael’s not looking at him, and after a moment he wanders out in silence, and Gavin has no idea what’s going on.

“What was that all about?” he asks, but Michael just gives him a withering look and he snaps his mouth shut and doesn’t pry further.

It’s things like that. Little things, the two of them not seeming to spend as much time together as they used to.

“Who are you bringing on that stakeout?” Michael asks Ray, finally approaching him in the garage when he and Gavin are about to head out to do some prep for their next heist.

“The one tonight? I’m not sure yet.” Ray raises his eyebrows, obviously waiting for Michael to volunteer, but Michael just glances away.

“I think Ryan’s free,” he says, and Ray looks stricken for a moment, before his brows furrow and he shrugs.

“I guess I’ll bring Ryan then,” he says flatly.

Michael looks hurt, which Gavin really can’t understand. A second later Michael grabs his wrist and starts dragging him towards the car.

“Come on, Gavin, don’t hang about,” he snaps, which, okay, what the fuck is going on here?

Still.

He very stealthily avoids Jeremy until that night, when they all go out to the bar again. No occasion this time, just Friday night drinks with the entire crew - it’s something of a tradition, although they don’t all always attend.

There’s no sign of Sink Guy. Gavin’s on the look out for him. He thinks it’d be funny to meet him when he’s actually sober; even if the guy was an asshole and a bit handsy, he was kind of a laugh. Gavin found a very interesting sink on google images and if he ends up in conversation with him he figures Jeremy won’t come up and try to talk to him. It is the perfect cover.

Ray’s here too, for once. He’s not drinking, of course - he’s sitting by the bar working his way steadily through everyone else’s snacks, and avoiding Michael, who is also avoiding him, pointedly drinking at the other end of the room and not looking over at him.

Gavin’s committed to not drinking tonight, after last time’s disaster, but after a while of hanging awkwardly around by himself he goes over to sit with Michael.

Jeremy’s here too, he notes, as he slyly casts an eye around the bar. But luckily, he seems quite preoccupied by Matt, who’s also come along-

Or perhaps not so luckily. Oh God, Gavin thinks with sudden horror, maybe Jeremy likes Matt. They do spend a lot of time together. They’ve known each other forever. Or worse, what if they’re _already together_ and he just never realised and all this time Jeremy thought he was being inappropriately friendly? They’ll end up together and Gavin will be forever alone because he’s a pathetic loser.

Except Sink Guy liked him, so he can’t be 100% unattractive, can he? All his friends will pair off and he’ll have to end up with Sink Guy. It’s not so bad, he thinks, a bit hysterically. At least they’ll have interesting conversations and an amazingly renovated bathroom-

“Gav.”

Michael’s snapping his fingers in his face and Gavin jerks around to face him.

“Huh?”

“I need you to do me a favour,” Michael says. His voice is slow, almost cautious, but Gavin puts it down to the drinks he’s had.

“Oh. Sure,” he replies, without really thinking about it.

“Sit on my lap and make out with me.”

“I take that back,” he says immediately. “What the _fuck_ , Michael?”

“Look,” Michael says - he’s not even looking at Gavin, but gazing across the bar at Ray. The guy has to have eaten at least three bowls of pretzels by now. He’s started on these little mini burger things. No one is bothering him, so it seems to be a fantastic avoidance strategy. Maybe Gavin just needs to eat all day around the base and Jeremy will leave him alone.

“At Ray? I’m looking, Michael, and wondering exactly why you want _me_ to kiss you when it’s _his_ pants you want to get into.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Michael says. “Look, Gav, I… I really like Ray.”

“That comes as no surprise to anyone,” Gavin replies, drily.

“But I don’t fucking know if he likes me!”

Gavin blinks a few times. He’d assumed Michael and Ray had had an argument, or something - of everything he could’ve said, that was the one thing he wasn’t expecting.

“Okay,” he says, slowly. “I can clear that one up for you. He really, really does.”

“I don’t think so, though,” Michael insists.

There’s something sort of endearingly oblivious in it, but it’s also pretty damn _frustrating_ because-

“Why the _fuck_ would you not think so?” Gavin demands. “Have you seen how he looks at you? Look, Michael, I’ll second guess whether someone like _me_ a thousand times - you know I’m the most uncertain person ever about that sort of thing - but I can tell you with absolute certainty that Ray’s into you too. Like, I’d bet my life on it. I’d bet my _cat’s_ life on it, that’s how serious I am.”

Michael’s still shaking his head insistently.

“I don’t _know_ , though. I tried to make a move on him but he didn’t seem to want to go out with me.”

“Was it a clear move?” Gavin asks, suspiciously.

“It was a… subtle move.”

“How subtle?”

“Look, it was a fucking move, okay,” Michael snaps, “And he turned me down but I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t realise that I was asking him to date me so I’ve been, like, testing the waters and I think he’s avoiding me.”

“But _you’re_ avoiding _him_ ,” Gavin cries. “You have been _all day_ now! Bloody hell, Michael, get your shit together, boi.”

“No, I haven’t,” Michael says. “I’ve been testing to see if _he’s_ avoiding me, that’s what I’ve been fucking doing.”

There is a cycle of dysfunction going on here, apparently, and it’s sort of hard to believe that two grown men could be so fucking oblivious.

“Look,” Michael continues. “I’m pretty sure he’s _not_ into me and I’ve been testing to make sure because if he _isn’t,_ then… well, it fucking _sucks_ and it’ll hurt like hell to be sure of it, but I don’t wanna keep going after him if he doesn’t feel the same way, you know? That’s not fair on him, so I’m thinking if you make out with me and he gets jealous then I’ll know for sure that he _does_ like me.”

Gavin has heard many terrible plans. They’re the Fake AH Crew, some of the shit they’ve come up with is pretty unbelievable. But by God, this is one of the fucking worst.

“There are five hundred ways this could backfire horribly,” he begins, but Michael tuts, impatient now.

“Gav,” he says, annoyed. “I didn’t ask for your fucking romantic advice. I asked for you to sit on my lap and let me kiss you.”

“This is a terrible plan,” Gavin insists. “What if he-”

“If you won’t fucking help me, I’ll find someone else,” Michael says curtly, and Gavin bites his lip and grabs the other man’s arm.

“Hey,” he says, “Come on, don’t be like that…”

Michael’s staring at him all pleading like. It’s not often the other man seems vulnerable, but right now it’s obvious that he really doesn’t know if Ray likes him or not, and for whatever reason thinks this’ll help him confirm it.

“Oh, fuck it,” Gavin says. “If this backfires, it’s on you.”

“It won’t backfire,” Michael replies. “It’ll let me know if he likes me or not! I can’t think of any other way-”

“Have you considered _asking_ him?”

Michael gives him his most poisonous _are you fucking stupid_ look, and Gavin shuts his mouth. Because the thing is, Michael can be just as dysfunctional as he is when it comes to this stuff. Oh, he covers it well, with confidence, or anger, or a carefully constructed air of not-giving-a-damn. But in their business, human interaction takes a backseat to how well you can set off a bomb - for someone in Michael’s position, at least - and Gavin figures with all the jobs he’s taken over the last few years he probably hasn’t actually been in a relationship for a while, just the same way Gavin hasn’t.

“Will you do it or not?” Michael demands, and Gavin sighs.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” He can’t see the harm. It might well get them together, and if Ray gets salty about it - well, he’s _Ray_ , he’ll probably see the funny side afterwards. “I’ve pretended to be the boyfriend of four people in our crew, I may as well make it a full set.”

“I appreciate it,” Michael says, then grins and thumps him on the arm. “I wanted to ask you because I know it won’t be awkward, my totally platonic bro.”

“Right,” Gavin snorts.

“And also,” Michael continues, “I know you’re into Jeremy.”

“Okay, shut the fuck up.” Gavin’s hackles have risen so fast that he can’t believe it; the mere mention of the other man has him suddenly so nervous that he can’t think straight. “I don’t bloody well want to talk about _that.”_

There’s a mischievous sort of sparkle in Michael’s eyes. He looks ready to tease further and Gavin, annoyed, plonks himself in his lap and kisses him angrily. Within seconds, Michael’s kissing back, hands moving easily to Gavin’s waist to steady him.

Ryan’s kiss swept him away, but Michael’s is grounding. It’s fierce and passionate the way everything he does is; almost aggressive with how quickly he takes control. After a moment one hand goes up to tangle in Gavin’s hair; the way he tugs is just bordering on painful, but in a good way, a way that seems to heighten everything else. His hand is very warm, nearly hot against Gavin’s scalp, and he can taste the faint tang of whiskey in Michael’s mouth-

But the other man is distracted; he pulls back a bit and Gavin opens his eyes and sees him casting sidelong glances across the room. He’s still kissing Gavin - distractedly, quick little pecks, but after a moment he breaks away completely. Gavin gasps, catching his breath, but quickly follows his gaze-

Just in time to see Ray staring at them, a horrified, hurt look on his face. Honestly, it’s what Gavin expected, but somehow - fool that he is - he didn’t realise quite how terrible this must feel for him. _Stupid, stupid_ he barely has time to think, before Ray gives Michael the finger and storms out.

“Um,” says Michael.

“Told you it’d backfire,” Gavin begins, helplessly - but another movement across the bar catches his attention, mostly because he took note that it’s where _Jeremy_ was sitting. Sure enough, Jeremy’s stood up too now, a look of pure shock on his face. He’s got one foot awkwardly forward, his chair pushed back like he was about to walk over to them.

His eyes meet Gavin’s and they both freeze - Gavin horrified, his heart pounding, his breath caught in his chest-

_No, no, no, no-_

Because there’s _hurt_ in Jeremy’s face now - the same pure, terrible hurt that was on Ray’s - and after a moment he shakes his head slowly and turns away from Gavin before gathering his belongings and hurrying out.

_Oh God,_ is all Gavin can think - _I fucked this up, I fucked this up - he_ was _into me, he was… he liked me and now he saw me kissing Michael and he… I don’t know_ what _he must think but it can’t be good, I’ve ruined everything-_

And under all that, a painful, crushing guilt - _I’ve_ hurt _him now-_

“Fuck,” Michael breathes, and Gavin shoves angrily at his chest.

“Michael! I told you this was a bad idea,” he snaps, and scrambles off his lap. Michael looks torn, staring out the door - Jeremy left through the back, Ray the front, and after a moment both of them glance at each other.

“Go after him,” Gavin says, sharply - it comes out automatically, he knows it’s what _Michael_ has to do-

But the other man isn’t so wrapped up in himself that he didn’t notice Jeremy either; he shoves at Gavin’s arm, pushing him towards the back door.

“You go after him too,” he demands.

Gavin freezes, his chest seized up with fear - _I can’t face him, I can’t, I can’t, better for him to_ hate _me, that’s easier, I deserve it anyway, I don’t deserve_ him-

But Michael’s already snatched up his coat. He starts to leave, notices Gavin’s not moved, and strides up to him. Seizes his arm roughly and leans in, close.

“You fucking go after him right now,” he hisses. “I was an idiot, and you can say you told me so later, but _I’m_ telling _you_ now - if we don’t want _both_ of us to have fucked up _irrevocably_ tonight, you go after Jeremy right now. He didn’t deserve that. Ray didn’t either. Show some guts, boi.”

Gavin swallows hard. Michael’s breath is warm against his ear and the other man seems to be radiating firey heat. When he lets go of Gavin and runs out after Ray, he feels a flash of something like envy; no matter whether it’s a bad idea or not, Michael’s always at least _sure_ of what he’s doing. Not like him, Hamlet’ing about fucking things up because he avoids confronting things.

_Not this time._

There is no way he could _possibly_ make things worse, he rationalises, and takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and hurries out after Jeremy.

 

* * *

 

**+1. Jeremy**

It’s cold outside the bar; quiet and dark - while it’s crowded inside, no one particularly wants to linger out in this weather except a few men smoking just outside the doors. Gavin didn’t bring his jacket, but he’s too focused on Jeremy to notice the biting air.

At first, he can find no sign of the other man, and a brief panic hits him as he thinks that maybe he’s too late, maybe Jeremy’s gone home and he won’t get a chance to talk to him and by tomorrow it will be _far_ too late, dead and gone and Jeremy will never speak to him again-

But then he hears it - the rev of a motorbike’s engine from the car park a little distance away. Without even thinking about it he sprints towards it - sees Jeremy, on his bike, and rushes in front of it.

“ _Stop_ ,” he cries, grabbing the handlebars just as the bike starts to jolt forward. Jeremy brings it to a screeching holt and Gavin stands there, panting - heart pounding, the heady bitter smell of the bike’s exhaust lingering around them. Staring up at the visor of Jeremy’s helmet - he sees his own pale face and wide eyes staring back at him.

Then Jeremy rips his helmet off, leans forward, and grabs Gavin by the arm, shaking him hard.

“You fucking _idiot_ ,” he snaps - his voice is trembling. “I could have run you over!”

“I had to stop you,” Gavin blurts out, desperately. Jeremy looks furious, but he also looks _scared_ , and he realises belatedly that jumping in front of a motorbike about to move was probably not the greatest idea. Oops.

“Why?” Jeremy demands - his face hardening now. He lets go of Gavin and folds his arms. “So you can express in words as well as actions that you’re not into me?”

Gavin rears back like he’s been slapped.

“That’s not it at all,” he says quietly.

Jeremy’s staring at him. He looks upset and Gavin feels terrible, as he walks around to the side of the bike. Jeremy doesn’t get off, just looks at him, something guarded in his expression.

“I just saw you making out with Michael,” he says, voice tight. “I thought he was into Ray, but hell, what do I know.”

“He _is_ into Ray,” Gavin replies.

“Then why…”

“He wanted to make him jealous,” Gavin admits, biting his lip. “It was stupid.”

“That what you were doing?” Jeremy demands. “Wanted to make _me_ jealous too? Was avoiding me all day not enough for you? Gotta rub it in as well?”

He’s being mean. It’s not like him. But Gavin can see in his eyes, hear in his voice, just how _hurt_ he is. It makes him ache; kind, sweet Jeremy who’s always been so lovely to him, lashing out because Gavin’s fucked up so badly, made him believe that he’d ever be so deliberately cruel to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, helplessly. “I…”

“Jack gave me these back,” Jeremy says, and scoffs, pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket. “That should have been a clear enough signal, I guess. I was stupid to hope.” He takes a deep breath, gathers himself, and when he speaks again the scorn is gone from his tone, replaced by his usual saintly patience. “It’s fine, you know. It’s cool if you’re not interested. You were drunk the other night, you didn’t know what you were saying. I shoulda known better than to get my hopes up.”

“But I…” It’s hard to say when he hasn’t got some liquid courage in him, but he swallows hard and pushes on. _Make this right._ “I _am_ interested, Jeremy.”

Jeremy looks pained.

“Don’t say that just because you pity me,” he begins, but Gavin shakes his head furiously.

“But I don’t pity you at all!” he protests. “How could I pity you? You’re… you’re _you_.”

“What does that mean?” Jeremy asks, and Gavin flaps his hands about.

“You know! You’re so… so kind, and funny, and everyone likes you and you’re so amazing working with vehicles and so confident and also… really, really attractive-"

A slow smile’s spreading across Jeremy’s face; his cheeks have turned red and Gavin can’t help but continue.

“You’re just - a really great guy, _anyone_ would want to be with you - or _be_ you, seriously - and I’ve been a bloody idiot. I thought _you_ weren’t interested in _me_.”

“In what world would anyone not be into you, Gavin?” Jeremy asks quietly, and Gavin shrugs, looking away, shoulders hunched up awkwardly.

“Every world,” he mutters, and Jeremy reaches out and bumps his hand against his shoulder.

“The other night,” he says, “I let myself hope that you were into me. But when you started avoiding me I was like, _idiot_ , why the fuck would _Gavin Free_ be interested in you? He’s successful and smart and one of the most brilliant criminals in the country, and…. and really fucking funny and just-" He gestures furiously at Gavin. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot it’s not even funny.”

“I ate twenty chicken nuggets last night,” Gavin mutters; he feels tingly all over and bashful, and Jeremy barks out a startled laugh.

“Still hot,” he says with a grin. “But you’re just - so much fun to be around, Gavin, and you care so much about everything you do, I…”

He trails off; Gavin’s laughing now, mostly to cover how shy he suddenly feels. But this is the Jeremy he loves, the one who can always make him smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m not into Michael. Back there, that wasn’t to hurt you - I didn’t think you were watching. I figured you were interested in Matt.”

Jeremy stares at him for a moment, then bursts into laughter so uproarious that he nearly topples off his bike.

“Me… and Matt…” he gasps out, between guffaws. “Oh my _God_ , Gavin, _really_? Me and _Matt?_ That’s priceless.”

“Look,” Gavin says defensively, and then trails off. His face feels like it’s burning but Jeremy’s not laughing _at_ him, not really, and after a moment he huffs and chuckles a little as well.

“For real though,” he says, once Jeremy’s calmed down somewhat. “I was just helping Michael out. In a horrible plan, it turns out, but you didn’t have a problem with all the _other_ times I pretended one of the others was my boyfriend.”

“Those were for jobs,” Jeremy says, uncertainly.

“And this was to help out a friend,” Gavin says. “Which is exactly what Michael is, just a _friend_. I don’t know,” he adds then, flustered, “I didn’t even think about it. It just didn’t seem like a big deal. I’ve done so much pretending to be with other people already. Besides - weren’t you the one who told me that you didn’t think a kiss was that big a deal?”

“That’s true,” Jeremy admits, and sighs. “But I didn’t want _us_ to kiss the other night because I didn’t want our first one to be when you were drunk.”

“Oh,” Gavin says, and his heart skips a bit suddenly at the frank admission, the sincerity in Jeremy’s words. “But you did _want_ to kiss me?”

“Yes,” Jeremy replies, and smiles a bit. “I did.”

“Oh,” Gavin says again. “Because I wasn’t sure, the next morning. That’s why I avoided you.”

“You should have been,” Jeremy says, and grins, reaching out and chucking Gavin’s cheek. “It’s cute that you don’t realise how attractive you are, because really, Gavin, I think most people in that bar would kiss you if you asked them.”

Gavin really has no answer to that, other than to duck his head and smile.

“Well,” he says, “I don’t like that _you_ seem to think I wouldn’t be interested in you just ‘cause you’re new to the crew and I’m not.”

“Okay,” Jeremy says. “Well, now that that’s cleared up.”

There’s a funny sort of silence. Jeremy’s staring at him, eyes crinkled at the edges and fond, and Gavin’s staring back at him. He looks good, all flushed in the cold, still on top of his bike. Staring at Gavin with open affection now.

“So,” he begins, a bit nervously. “Is now, like, a big enough time for the first kiss?”

“What, out in the parking lot?” Jeremy teases, looking around.

“Well, you’re on your bike,” Gavin points out.

“It _is_ an awesome bike,” Jeremy agrees, patting the handlebars.

“Yeah it is,” Gavin says, but he won’t make the first move and Jeremy seems to realise that; he laughs and reaches out and tugs Gavin in.

The kiss is softer, sweeter, more gently deliberate than any of the others were. Jeremy’s careful, the way he’s always careful with Gavin, one hand cupping his cheek, the other resting on his waist. It’s tentative and careful and _special_ ; the metal of the bike cold against Gavin’s leg where his knee’s pressed against it, but Jeremy very warm. He’s a good kisser; firm without being pushy, gently nudging Gavin’s face to tilt him into a better angle. Pulling back smoothly to get a breath before pushing back in again. When they finally break apart Jeremy’s smiling, and opening his eyes to meet Jeremy’s sparkling ones nearly makes Gavin dizzy with the rush of elation it gives him.

“That one wasn’t a pretend kiss,” Gavin informs him, and Jeremy laughs and squeezes his shoulder.

“No,” he says, sounding _marvellously_ breathless. “It wasn’t.”

They grin at each other.

“I didn’t eat yet,” Gavin pipes up then. “Did you want to…?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jeremy replies, sounding very excited. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere except McDonalds,” Gavin replies immediately, and Jeremy laughs.

“I know some places,” he says. “You may’ve been in the crew longer but I’ve lived in AC a while now.”

Gavin nods. And then, because he has to be _sure_ what’s going on here:

“Is this a…”

“Date?” Jeremy asks, and looks a bit nervous too suddenly. “If you want it to be.”

Gavin doesn’t answer; he’s overcome with a funny giddiness, suddenly, and all he can do is sort of stand there and grin.

“You’re smiling,” Jeremy says, a teasing note in his voice, “That’s good, right?”

Gavin can’t help but laugh, his own drunken words suddenly coming back to him.

“Yes, it’s good,” he replies, and Jeremy beams and passes him the helmet.

“Hop on, then.”

Before he takes it, Gavin leans in and kisses him again. He can’t help himself; he still can’t quite believe that things have worked out so well for him. Jeremy lets out a startled laugh, but kisses him back, his hand running down Gavin’s arm, pressing his wrist gently before pulling back.

“Definitely not pretend,” he says, and Gavin giggles before pulling the helmet on and climbing on behind him. He wraps his arms tightly around Jeremy’s waist, feels the bike thrum to life under them, and they’re off.

 

* * *

 

(Moments later, as they drive out around the front of the bar, Jeremy pulls the bike to a halt and nudges Gavin with his elbow, pointing furiously. Ray’s kissing Michael desperately against a wall a little way down the street; Gavin can’t help his swell of relief - he interrupts them with a loud whistle and their heads snap around. Michael salutes, Ray gives them both the finger, and Jeremy laughs his glorious laugh before revving the bike and speeding off again.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to whoever sent in the prompt! <3


End file.
